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luveline · 1 year

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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

You learn how to be someone’s girlfriend. Or, 5 times Hotch raises your expectations (+1 time you raise his).

7k words, new established relationship to established relationship, lots of fluff and some small angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader, civilian!reader, calls him aaron, basically hotch treating you well

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1. Soup.

"Are you hungry?" Aaron asks, hands at the neck of his shirt as he loosens his tie.

You've never seen him do that. It's a lot to take in.

"A little, are you?" He's lucky that you remember to answer.

His smile lights you up inside and out, a warm, casual quirk. "Famished."

"Should we make something?"

He turns from the doorway and moves into the kitchen. You have to twist on his couch to see his movements.

"No need. I should've asked if you like it, but I made vegetable soup. The kind with mini dumplings."

You look down at your legs and squeeze your thighs together until your knees tap. You're too shy to go and meet him where he's standing, but perhaps sitting and having him wait on you is arrogant. And awkward.

The couch is plush under your hands as you stand. You'd slipped off your shoes at the door, and your socked-feet slide over the tiled floor of the kitchen as you make your way to his side. Aaron lights the stove, atop which stands a tall cooking pot.

"When did you have time to make that?" you ask, soft with awe.

"I knew you'd be coming over. I started it this morning."

"And if I didn't like it?"

He turns his gaze to yours, pot lid held aloft. "Then I would've ordered in for us. You're sure this is okay?"

You've never had somebody cook for you before. Homemade, fresh ingredients, and the intricacy of the dumplings too, it all impresses and amazes you. You feel very special. Like you're worth all the effort.

"I'm sure. More sure if you let me try it."

His laugh startles you for its rarity. "Okay. It's not done," he warns.

"Just to taste it."

He stirs the warming soup with a big spoon for half a minute, the heat on high, before scooping up some broth and holding it above a cupped palm. "It's probably not very hot," he says.

Oh, you think, excited and sick with nerves at once. He's going to feed the soup to me.

Something out of a movie, something you didn't know people actually did for their significant others, Aaron waits for you to open your mouth and offers the spoon. You slurp and feel heat rise to your cheeks at the clumsy sound.

"Aaron," you say, soft and obsessed after you've swallowed, "it's really nice. You made that yourself?"

"I can cook," he says defensively.

You lick your lips, giggling. "I can tell. That was really good. Though it was definitely too cold."

"Mm. It has to cook through some more. Reduce. Do you want to shower?" He puts down his wooden spoon, head tilting to one side gently. He assesses your expression, and brings a curved hand to settle over your cheek. The tip of his index finger kisses the delicate skin under your eye. "No, maybe not. You look tired."

You probably shouldn't say something like that to your brand new girlfriend (you scream internally at the word, every single time since he asked you a week ago) but Aaron speaks factually. You don't think for a second that there's any malice there, any hidden critique. His words shine with concern.

"It's Friday. I'm always tired at the end of the week."

His hand falls to your shoulder. "I can imagine."

"You can go shower, if you like. I'll watch the soup."

"I need one, huh?"

He must know how well-kept he looks even now. You're not sure you've ever seen him dishevelled.

"Definitely need one," you try to tease. It comes out murmur-quiet, and Aaron takes pity and kisses your cheek.

He leaves to shower and you 'watch' the soup — you stand at the stovetop and soak in it's emanating warmth, stirring it every now and then to prevent the bottom from burning. The shower runs muffled from the bathroom, and your mind wanders as it tends to do. It's an undeniable fact that Aaron is naked right now, the thought opening an avenue of images you've been trying not to think about all day. It's your very first time spending the night after a couple of weeks of dating, and now you're together, if Aaron wants to have sex tonight you'll say yes. He's handsome, and his build suggests a certain… tenacity.

His hands would convince you alone. Big hands.

You look down into the simmering pot of soup and smile harder than you have any right to smile. He's done everything right, all the romance; he'd asked you out clearly with no doubt of his intentions, which had shocked you; he'd brought you a bouquet of flowers on your first date, which had delighted you; and he hadn't tried to take you home, which had surprised you.

Modern romance often doesn't feel very romantic. Things with Aaron are different.

Hell, he's so sweet he probably won't make a move unless you make one yourself.

You'd prefer to be squeaky clean tonight, you've decided, just in case. When he gets out of the shower, you'll tell him you've changed your mind.

The shower shuts off. He appears a little bit after that, in new clothes, towel around his neck and feet either side of your own as he sidles in for a damp and quick cheek kiss.

"Sorry I took so long. Are you ready to eat?" he asks, taking the spoon from your hand to give the soup a big, gran stir.

"Actually, could I shower?"

If he's surprised at your changed mind he says nothing, only turns down the heat of the stove. "Of course you can. Come on, I'll show you how it all works."

His 'come on' is accompanied with a guiding hand at the small of your back. You let yourself be guided. The heat of his touch fills your stomach and doesn't abate, no matter how cold you run the spray.

2. Phone calls.

It's the week after that when you're supposed to be spending the night again. You're excited for two reasons, the first and smallest being that he had been what you thought and more in bed, that itself an expectation raised, and it had felt like connection at its brightest — he'd been sweet, and he'd been rough but never, not ever once cruel. A perfect night. The second, and biggest, is that he's honestly just the nicest person you've ever met. He's your boyfriend, a phrase you don't say in front of him because he's admittedly older than you, and you can't imagine he calls you his girlfriend. Partner might be more apt. He's your boyfriend and he's openly fond of you. Openly more than that. It's new to be doted on as ardently as he dotes on you.

He touches you like he can't believe he's touching you. He talks to you like you're gold dust, all smiles and laughs heavy with admiration, and he listens. You've never felt listened to in the way you do when you're with him.

So many conversations are just one party waiting for the other to stop talking until it's their turn. You think, maybe, Aaron would let you talk for hours. He would listen the whole time.

In summary, you're basically thrumming with excitement to see him again. You've missed him some, but mostly you've spent the week bouncing off of walls waiting for the next time you get to talk to him.

His text is disheartening, to say the least.

Hey, honey. I have to cancel our plans tonight. I'm sorry, and I'll explain as soon as I get the chance. Please take care of yourself for me until I can.

It doesn't make you mad. While it is extremely short notice, and your heart hurts to the point of frustrated tears, you know it isn't his fault. He's been clear about his job at the FBI and what that means for you both. How it will without a doubt pull him away from you during dates, the middle of the night, special occasions, the works — this had been after a small disclosure about his commitment to his son, Jack, and how he's a father first — and how it will definitely cause some strain.

"But," he'd said, "I want you, and I want this to work. So if you can be patient with me, I'll try to make it worth it."

He's been successful every time. After he'd cancelled your third date, he'd quickly rearranged it and apologised with a modest but beautiful bouquet of flowers.

Somewhere between the fifth and sixth date, you hadn't seen him for two whole weeks, and every worry you'd had about his intentions had been abated by a steady stream of encouraging text messages and the occasional photograph. Nothing crazy, but sweet things, like the cookies he and Jack had made that night, captioned, I'd save one for you if I thought Jack would let me, or a sunrise in a different state, captioned, This looks like the dress you wore to Lemaira.

Later that night, you're unhappy and frowning still, a small carton of ice cream freezing your fingers to the cardboard and a spoon in your mouth when your phone starts to ring.

You aren't expecting it to be Aaron. You aren't in the habit of calling one another, even though you'd secretly wished he would while he's away beforehand.

It's nearing eight o'clock.

"What time do you call this?" you joke, smiling despite yourself. Again, the excitement that comes with talking to him wells at the surface.

"I know, I'm sorry," he says, sounding very tired.

You slouch down into your couch cushions, ice cream on the armrest, remote for the TV on your chest. You click the volume button down, down, down until the TV's near silent.

"I'm kidding, mostly. Are you okay? I've been a little worried."

Understatement of the century. You know sudden cases of violence often draw him away from Virginia, but this had been sudden sudden. The lack of information had made you think the worst, worse than serial killer and bombers and hostage situations. You'd thought Aaron was in danger himself, and then you'd tried to suffocate that thought. He'd never worry you like that even if he were.

"I'm fine. Sorry to miss you tonight."

"I'm sorry to miss you too," you say, voice disjointed, too earnest. You scramble to hide the depth of your feelings. "Where are you?"

"I'm in St. Louis. Where are you?"

You laugh, curling onto your side with the phone pressed up against your ear. "Where am I? I'm at home."

"What are you doing?"

"I was watching TV."

"Yeah? Did you eat anything yet?"

You think to the takeout you'd bought and shoved in the microwave, not hungry at the time but knowing knowing would be. "Not yet. Why are you asking?"

"I want to know."

"I told you in my text I would take care, Aaron."

"Honey," he says, pet name like a warm palm over your heart, "my definition of taking care and your definition are very different. Promise me you'll eat something."

"Of course I will. Easy promise." You scratch the couch fabric absent-mindedly. "Have you eaten?"

"Yes," he says, the sound of a closing window in the background. "It's awful how much take out I eat. All these cases, there's never any time to cook real food."

"Why, what did you have? And surely there's some uber healthy options out there, like, a chickpea salad-"

"That costs thirty dollars? I'm not struggling, honey, but we both know that's obscene."

You're laughter takes on a giddy quality as you cross your leg over the other, picturing his smile as his laughter echoes breathily down the line. You really, really wish he were here right now and that you were having this conversation face to face. You know he'd smile and try to hide how smug he feels at making you laugh. His hand would reach over any gap to touch some silly part of you, forearm or collar or the skin under your ribcage.

"Are you okay?" You say his name to drive the point home. Your voice is quiet — you're hesitant to offer, worried you're crossing a boundary. "Aaron, I know you don't like bringing it home, but you aren't home, so… I'm here."

"I know. It's nothing I want you to worry about, there's an ongoing situation here, bomb threats coming in quicker than the local P.D can handle. They need us to vet them and figure out if any of them are real."

You think about it for a few seconds, the silence small but not uncomfortable. If you were under that kind of pressure, you'd be hurting. Chest pains, anxiety shakes, a migraine.

"You'll be safe?" you ask.

"Always. I'm not in any danger. And I need to get home, I owe you a Friday."

"You do," you mumble.

There's the creak of a box spring mattress, and the sound of a lamp being clicked. On or off, you don't know. When Aaron speaks, his tone is dulcet and hushed but distinct. You feel it in your chest.

"Tell me about your day," he murmurs.

You lay it all out for him in detail. He can barely reply when you hang up, sleep thickening his affectionate, "Goodnight, honey."

3. His bleeding heart.

"What kind of kid were you?" he asks.

You look up from your notebook, surprised. Aaron has been silent for what feels like an hour now, laid out on the picnic blanket with your sweater bundled up under his head while the sun warms your skin.

"I was…" You let your pen roll into the centre of your notebook and close it. He's laid his paperback flat across his chest. You think he might be very interested in the answer. "It was a long time ago, but I think I was lonely."

He nods like this is what he'd been expecting. "Me too."

It's a gorgeous day out. The sky is a light, bright blue with few clouds. They block the sun occasionally, providing a short and bittersweet shield from the heat. The grass surrounding is shockingly green, rippling in the breeze.

"You were?" you ask. "What were you like?"

"I was quiet."

"That's not surprising," you say mildly.

"No, I guess not."

You abandon your notebook and lay down beside him. Worrying what you look like from this angle, you cover your jaw with your hand and turn toward him ever so slightly to show you're listening.

"I liked affection. I remember my mom used to say I was a siphon for it. I'd be all over her, and she'd have nothing left to give anyone else."

"That's not true," you deny. Every ounce of affection that you given him, he has returned tenfold, and that's inspired a lot of kindness in you, for him and for the world. "You're like an amplifier, if anything."

He smiles to himself and turns his gaze skyward. "I wish we'd met before."

"Me too," you say, leaving little room for debate.

"You're so kind," — he adorns you with each word like a gift, a tiny star of praise — "I think you're the kindest person I've ever met."

He laughs. It's a catching sound, contagious as anything. You giggle with him and shift closer. Your arms touch, your hips.

"Baby," you murmur, almost lamenting, "d'you ever think your ability to see the good in people is- It's indicative of the good in you... You've given more of your life than most to keep other people safe. That's the kindest thing a person can do."

He tangles your hand with his where it had been resting on your stomach. You're pretty sure you can feel every line of every fingerprint as he works your fingers together, a snug fit like one of those wooden brain teaser puzzles: How do you pull these two pieces apart? From the outside, it looks impossible!

"I think I'd be different, if I'd met you before. I'd be kinder," he says.

You can't agree with him. It's obvious who he is. You know more about him now than you ever have before. His late wife, how she'd been the best mother they ever made. His son, and how he moulds Aaron everyday into a better man. His friends, who trust him, who adore him. All these people have a hand in who Aaron is now, and while you wish you'd been around from the start, now will have to do.

"You're plenty kind," you say. Understatement of the century.

"Sorry," he says with a laugh, "With you-" He cuts himself off, head-shaking from side to side as he pulls your joined hands up slowly.

Your arm bends and then turns as he pulls it toward his face. He unlinks your fingers to steer your forearm, aligning it flat over his lips. The first kiss is a surprise, light like the feathered edge of a flower petal, and the second isn't dissimilar.

The third melts you, veritably, the parting of his lips emphasised by the dull scratch of teeth against your pulse, the wet heat of his tongue. Three becomes four, and a final fifth, crescent moons pressed into your skin like he's trying to tell you something.

You've no clue what. You likely couldn't say which way the world turns, not when he's kissing you. Not like this.

Aaron has an acute ability to talk without talking. Hello's and thank you's and I care about you's woven into quick kisses, the swift squeeze of his hand over the slope of your shoulder.

These ones say something you don't want to speak aloud, lest you jinx it.

The sunlight fades. A big grey cloud covers the sun.

"I think it's gonna rain," you say.

A raindrop splashes in Aaron's eye.

"Fuck," he says, which is hilarious, because he never swears in front of you. You hadn't known he cussed at all.

The downpour is slow and then sudden, spitting rain dotting over you both like a fine mist as you stand, a thicker, faster outpouring chasing your heels as you hurry to the car. You realise you can't outrun it even if you sprint, and so you stop, Aaron's hand in yours tugged like a rubber band. He bounces back into your chest with the picnic blanket under his arm, your books tucked somewhere inside.

He doesn't ask what you're doing. He's made the same deduction as you, or maybe he trusts you, or maybe he's indulging you.

"Your hair," he laments.

"Doesn't matter," you say.

You lift your chin up for a kiss. Aaron ducks down to give you one. A raindrop runs down the bridge of his nose to the tip of yours.

4. In sickness.

You insist that it wasn't the rain that made you sick, but honestly there's no way to tell. You'd kissed for slightly too long, and the rain had been surprisingly cold. Now you aren't very well, and you have to cancel Aaron's sleepover.

You hold out as long as you can, but come Friday afternoon it's clear you aren't getting better. You wake to a text from Aaron, two texts, and it makes you smile through shivery coughs.

I can't wait to see you tonight. Do you need anything before I get there? Miss you. Sent 6.26AM.

Is everything okay? Sent 9.17AM.

Usually you'd have answer his morning text within the hour.

Hi, I miss you too, so much, but I don't think we'll be able to see each other tonight. I've got the flu :( I'm sorry. And sorry I couldn't answer your message until now, I was sleeping.

It's another hour before he answers. You rouse from your gross snotty stupor to squint at the phone. It's surprisingly long.

I'm sorry it's taking me so long to get back to you, things are tense here right now. You don't have to be sorry for either, I'm glad to hear you're resting. You could have told me you were sick. Is it okay if I come and see you tonight anyways? I would love to check on you. Don't rush to answer, and call me if you can.

You call him with reservations.

"Is this a good time?" you ask weakly, forgoing a hello.

It takes him a little while to speak. You assume he's leaving a room, closing a door. "Now's fine. How are you?"

"My throat hurts and it's a little hard to breathe, but I'm sure I'll live."

"You've been to see a doctor?"

"It's not that bad."

He sighs. "You sound tired. And sore. Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

"You don't have to baby me, I'm really okay."

"Have you considered that I'd like to baby you?"

Not really. You can't imagine anyone would want to deal with you. You're a mess, you look awful, you don't smell great, and you're not good company. You can't think of a single reason Aaron would want to be anywhere near you right now.

"No," you say, "I hadn't."

"I'd love to look after you."

"You could be doing something fun with your Friday. You could see Jack."

"Jack's going to Kings Dominion. And Fridays are our day, you being sick doesn't make me want to see you less."

You hadn't said that, but he'd inferred it. Of course he had.

You and Aaron decide that your sleepover will go ahead after all. Or, he persuades you very gently. You spend three hours doing tasks that should only take one. You shower, you clean your room, and you do the dishes. By the end of it you're sweating enough to need another shower but you aren't a quitter, so you open the freezer and stick your head in, hands braced against the refrigerator door.

You're excited to see him. You always are. Too bad you look so wiped out.

It's almost 6.30 when you hear his knock on the door. You'd been waiting for him and started dozing at the kitchen table, your neck a mess of twisted nerves, your hand numb from supporting your head. You shake it out and open the door, sheepish.

"Hi," you croak out.

He has a lot of stuff with him. His familiar overnight bag, a briefcase, two grocery bags, and a bouquet.

"Aaron, why," you moan, covering your face with one hand as you move back down the hall to let him in.

"Not the greeting I'd hoped for."

"I can't greet you, I'll make you sick."

You get all the way to the kitchen and think, triumphantly, that you've escaped his 'greeting'. He puts the flowers down carefully on the kitchen counter as you try to come up with a thank you that doesn't make your eyes burn. The grocery bags are placed without ceremony on the floor, and his overnight bag falls onto the kitchen chair. You watch him unbutton his rain spattered coat, and your triumph fades when he peels out of it and instantly reaches for you.

"Aaron," you mumble, stepping into his arms. He knows you can't say no to a hug, not after a week of not seeing him.

"I missed you," he says, arms around your back, lips at your temple. "You're running a temperature."

"It's not that bad. 101."

"Honey, 101 is bad."

"Not as bad as 102."

"Not as bad as 102," he concedes. You can hear his voice rumbling in his throat, and feel it in his chest and yours.

He takes as much of your weight as he can, leaning back so you're forced to arc forward. Your face slips into his neck, and you're thinking, this is what it's like? To be held, sick, with nothing to give? It feels good.

"Please tell me the next time you're sick," he murmurs.

You definitely will. If this is what it's like, roaming, cautious hands over your shoulder blades, a strong nose stroking lines against your warm forehead.

"Thank you for the flowers."

It's squished against his skin but he hears it. "You're welcome. Do you want me to put them in a vase?"

"I can do it."

"I think that might defeat the purpose. They're a gift, not an extra chore."

"Nobody ever got me flowers before you, so it doesn't feel like a chore at all."

He encourages your face back enough to look at you. You have to mouth breath on him because your nose is all stuffed up, and it is not something you're happy to do. You look down so he can't feel it.

"I'm gonna do something really cheesy, and you can tease me about it later, okay?"

You look at him from under your lashes. "'Kay."

"Close your eyes," he whispers.

You let your eyes shut. Aaron cradles your face in both hands and pulls your face toward his chin, in your rough approximation.

Heat fans against your eyes. He kisses your eyelids, the left and then the right, the most gentle press of his lips you've ever felt.

"It's killing me to see you like this," he says, and you're grateful for the pinch of humour behind it. "Couch or bed?"

"Couch. I wanna watch a movie with you."

"Good. I wanna watch a movie with you, too."

Aaron does everything. You're too tired to notice, but when you're better, you'll add it all up. He makes you dinner and breakfast and lunch and enough for the day after that, too. He trims down all your flowers and places them in a vase on your window sill. He recleans your room, cleans your bathroom, and plays nursemaid diligently. He makes you take your temperature in front of him, and then he fawns and makes you hug an ice pack, stays the night again when he's supposed to go home.

It sucks, but your temperature falls, and when your insides stop cooking themselves you start to feel better. On Sunday morning, when he has to leave, you feel the strange pang of being cared for unconditionally like the wind being knocked out of you. He'd done all of that because he cares about you. He'd wanted to see you fed and well and happy, and he hadn't gotten anything out of it in return.

5. The test-drive.

"Hi, Jack," you mumble, rubbing wetness out of your sleep-heavy eyes. "Good morning."

"Good morning," he says cheerfully, of his father's disposition.

"Did you," — you yawn wide and turn your face so neither of them can see — "sleep well?"

"Yeah, thank you. Why are you so tired?"

Aaron's standing at the stovetop making oatmeal. You stand at the counter beside it, hips touching but facing opposite ways. "I'm still getting used to your dad's bed."

It's true. There's something about someone else's mattress that makes you ache.

"What is it about my mattress you can't get along with?" Aaron asks in good humour, adding a generous pinch of salt to the saucepan.

"It's more comfortable than mine," you say with a self-satisfied laugh.

Aaron pecks your damp cheek and skirts around you to fill three identical bowls of oatmeal next to three identical glasses of orange juice. Jack cheers when his portions are placed in front of him, and he digs in even though it's ridiculously hot.

Aaron had explained once that he's basically trained Jack to eat it scorchingly hot by accident. Years of oatmeal straight off of the hob versus a growing boy with no patience. You watch in awe as Jack scarfs it down.

You and Aaron are doing this thing. You've called it the test-drive in your head. He wants to see how well you and Jack get along, likely, and how well you handle living together, too. (Though you absolutely don't think you'll be moving in together quite this soon.) That's your working theory. He'd asked you if you'd be interested in staying for the week a month ago, and you had, and it had been a dream. This is week two, and it seems to be going just as well as the first.

It's definitely revealing. To see each other's routines. And an adjustment. You have to see all the gross stuff, no avoiding it.

Though stuff you might consider gross he enjoys. Like watching you put on body lotion, he'd loved that more than words could express. And watching him shave, you'd loved that more than you'd thought you would. You'd sat on the lip of the tub and he'd listened to your morning murmurings, half asleep and excited as always to talk to him about everything.

Getting to know Jack more has been a joy, too. You've met him nowhere near as many times as you would've liked and done family things: bowling, pizza places, the movies, a baseball game.

Eating breakfast together is way more fun. Especially because Jack likes you.

As soon as you sit down he starts to tell you about school. You listen, sipping your orange juice while you wait for the oatmeal to cool from lava.

After breakfast, the three of you head back to your respective bedrooms to get dressed.

That's something else you adore, you and Aaron undressing and redressing together in the space in front of his closet, the intimacy of casual nudity, and the way his hand closes around your hip to move you out of the way of his shirts.

You're pretty much inseperable until you get to the car park. A firm believer in kids receiving as much love as they can from everybody, you offer Jack a hug before you part ways everytime. Sometimes he says yes, though most times he says, "Thank you, Miss Y/N, but my hug quota is full."

Today, he squeezes your waist really hard and says, "Have a good day bye," like it's one word.

"Have a good day, baby," you tell him, laughing as he jettisons into the passenger seat of Aaron's car.

Aaron usually gives you a swift kiss and goodbye like his son. Today, he brings his hand to your neck. You stare him straight in his dark eyes as he does, marvelling the shock of straight lashes outlining each one, and the permanent wrinkle between his brow from frowning.

Placing two hands on either shoulder, you use his frame to rise on tiptoes and kiss it.

"Don't frown too much today, okay, handsome? Have a good day."

He cups your face in both hands as your heels touch the ground. His hands are warm, kind as he pushes both palms over your cheeks and your ears. He covers them, and your heartbeat amplifies, a thumping sound fighting his skin. Then he slips his fingers behind your ears and the roaring fades.

"I love you," he says.

You beam at him. "Really?"

"Really. I love you, honey. Have a good day."

As if. If he thinks he can walk away after dropping that on you he's got another thing coming.

You throw your arms around his neck and all your weight into his front, almost barrelling him over. You have to stop yourself from wrapping your thighs around him, 'cause then he really might fall over.

You dig your face into his neck, searching for something, for the perfect place to rest your cheek. "I love you, Aaron."

There isn't a chance in hell he didn't already know it.

"I got you something," he says.

You laugh in surprise and tighten your hold on him. "Why? This is gift enough." He loves you. It bounces around in your chest.

"Because I'm not stupid enough to miss what I have right in front of me."

You lean back so you can kiss him, ignoring his hand as it reaches into his pocket.

"Baby," you say, a hair's width from his lips. You kiss him again for a second, thrilled, but curiosity pulls you back. "You have it now?"

He takes a step away from you and reveals the box in his pocket, long and thin. It clicks open on a silver hinge, and inside velveteen lies a simple chain.

"Is that a diamond?" you ask, breathless. The stone at the end of the chain shines like nothing you've ever seen before.

You don't know a thing about them other than that they're expensive. You can't see Aaron Hotchner of all people buying a fake.

"A small one," he says modestly.

Your eyes burn. You're happy to the point of tears but you refuse to cry.

"And it's for me?" you ask.

He laughs and you laugh too, the sound slightly sniffly.

"Of course. Do you want to wear it?"

"Now? Yes, more than anything," you say, smiling hard, cheeks appled and aching. "Are you serious?"

"More than anything."

Corny, you think desperately. Do not cry, that's so cheesy.

"Are you sure you don't want to wait until my birthday?"

He gestures for you to turn around, the chain hanging from his finger. You turn, feel his hands brushing against your neck as he lays it across your chest and pulls it together behind your nape.

"Your birthday gift is better than this."

Better? You could burst.

The clasp closes and he rubs his hands down the backs of your shoulders.

You turn back around, face dipped to your chest in efforts to see the necklace. It's short but long enough to spot the diamond hanging under your collar.

"I've never had a diamond, before," you mumble, hands pressed to your chest. Your heart bumps under your hand.

"Thank you," you say, looking up, "baby, you didn't have to. You don't have to get me stuff like this, it's a lot."

"I don't think it's too much. You give gifts when you're grateful. I'm grateful to love you."

He's expecting you this time, unwavering when your arms slide over his shoulders. You breathe in the smell of his skin and he does the same, his face pressed to the top of your head.

Jack is late for school that day. You apologise to Aaron more times than you can count, and every time he only smiles and says, "It's okay. I love you."

Aaron misses your first anniversary.

It's a very important date to miss, and you have a right to be upset.

But.

You always knew from the very first date that this was something that could, unfortunately, happen. You'd been lucky to get him for your birthday, luckier still to see him on his own and treat him with the delights he deserved. You'd figured eventually something would happen to throw a spanner in the works.

What you aren't expecting is the lack of anger.

You aren't mad at him, not one bit. It would be okay if you were, even though it's not his fault, because this is so big. You're celebrating the best year of your life alone, and that's no fun. You and Aaron had planned to go away, two days in a fancy hotel, Jack with Jessica and no worries.

He can't ignore a bomb threat in the capital, and he wouldn't want to.

You know a missed anniversary is a lesser weight than innocent people dead. You know Aaron wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he didn't go. You know he regrets leaving you on such an important day.

Maybe one day, you'll be angry with him. Today, you only miss him.

I love you. I'm sorry. I'll be back very soon. Happy anniversary.

He sends that after a grovelling, short phone call, in which you assure him that it's fine. Your voice is tight with tears, you miss him like crazy, and he hears it though you try to hide it.

I will make it up to you.

You don't have any doubts.

You feel a little sorry for yourself, and then you send him a text of your own.

I love you, so don't be sorry. Get back safe and sound and consider yourself forgiven. Happy anniversary, my love.

Followed with what's likely too many hearts for good measure.

Still, still, he doesn't believe it's okay. You know he's human, and he loves you, and that makes it easy to predict how he's feeling — worried that you're angry, worried that you'll leave him, worried this won't work for you.

And you're only human yourself. You can't say how you'll feel in another year, or two, or five. You can't imagine how depressing it might be to miss the holidays and birthdays and anniversaries with him year after year, but you want to be patient. You want to forgive him for the things he has no hand in, and you do.

You get a visitors pass for his office once you're cleared and take the elevator up, checking your text messages for the fifth time, just to make sure.

I'll be home in a couple of hours, the plane touches down in two. Love you. Sent 4.53PM.

It's the day after your anniversary, a Monday, and it's nearly 7PM. You smile at people you've seen in passing the few times you've visited his office before and don't bother trying to sit in Aaron's office, knowing it's locked while he's away. You travel the spare steps and sit at the top of the landing, hands clutching the neck of the bunch of flowers you're holding nervously. The cellophane crinkles.

You hadn't answered him. It was cruel to leave him hanging, but you didn't expect him to come home so soon. He's too damn good at his job.

The elevator doors open in the quiet. Barely anybody lingers now in the late hour, and the voices of the BAU echo.

Spencer sees you first. Morgan second. They stop at the beginning of the office.

Aaron sees you third.

You spring to stand up on your feet, and then you feel very tall and very seen and descend the steps rather than draw more attention.

"You said seven," you say, not sure what else to say, not with people watching you. "This is definitely closer to eight."

Aaron thankfully isn't too proud to speed walk to you. Your heart skips as you meet him, flowers crushed half to death as he gets his arm behind your neck, hooking your head in the crook of his elbow.

He kisses you roughly. Heat floods every inch of skin, your breath rushes out of your nose with a sigh.

He pulls back.

"Happy anniversary," you say quietly, smiling at the sheer relief in his eyes.

"It was yesterday," he says, quiet too.

"Happy one year and one day, then." You push him away from you gently. "Don't suffocate your roses."

"You got me flowers."

"You get people gifts when you're grateful," you parrot.

He takes a step back and accepts the flowers. On the message card, you've written, bashful and clumsy and adoring, I'm grateful to love you. One year and more.

He moves the bouquet into one hand and wraps you up in another huh, firm-armed, chin over the top of your head, though he intersperses his embrace with dainty kisses pecked from one temple to another.

"You aren't mad?" he asks, worried about the answer.

"No," you say honestly. "Not mad. Missed you like crazy yesterday, but I get you today. I can make it work."

When you break apart a second time, you both buckle under the weight of his colleagues watching.

"Thank you," Rossi speaks up, grand and wry, "we thought we'd have to endure his moping for at least a week. Your understanding spares us all."

"Nice, Dave," Aaron says.

"I've got your paperwork, Hotch," Morgan offers.

Aaron has the good sense to accept it before Morgan can change his mind. His friends say goodbye, and Aaron pulls you by the hand back to the elevator bank. You couldn't wipe the smile off of his face if you tried.

The elevator doors have barely closed when he's leaning down to kiss you again.

"Thank you," he says.

"You really don't have to say thank you," you murmur, bumping your shoulder with his. "You got home safe. That's all that matters."

His next kiss is bruising. The sound of cellophane crushed between you makes you laugh. He kisses you through it, his smile pressed feverishly to yours, over and over and over.

༺༻

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed please consider reblogging, i promise it makes a difference to me <3

#aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotch hotchner

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gabigabigabby · 5 months

Text

cristiano's daughter | j. félix

joão félix x ronaldo!footballer!reader

synopsis: joão steals your celebration as his way of telling you that goal was yours

a/n: plot is set during the euro qualifier game against luxembourg in march where he did that celebration with his arms crossed (ifykyk). joão is barça player bc it's perfect for this plot and y/n is barça femeni player. again, perfect for the plot. ALSO THANK YOU FOR 700++ FOLLOWERS, ik it's bee a while since i was on here but i really do appreciate all the love you give on my works 🥹🥹 so enjoy this one!

content/warnings: fluffy as hell, y/n taking a promise extremely seriously, dialogue in portuguese and spanish, eva and mateo being the cutest twin siblings ever, not proofread, lmk if i missed anything! 💫

🎵 streaming: infrunami - steve lacy

—

"papá nos estamos mirando. devuélvenos el saludo." gio begins talking, but you were in your football la-la-land.

i could've done a bicycle kick yesterday, you thought. it could've been my match.

don't you just love it? being in your own thoughts for the 500th time today. sense the sarcasm? "y/n," gio catches your attention, snapping you out of your head. "joão te busca, cariño." [dad is looking for us, wave back. joão is looking for you, sweetheart.]

your eyes run all over the pitch before landing on the squad, joão the second to last guy in the line-up. he sends you a wave, grinning to himself when he sees you facing him. he'd never know if you were making eye contact or not; he was just happy you were there. you wave back at him, not even bothering to hide your smile from your stepmother.

"estoy feliz de que estés feliz. y tienes suerte porque es un chico lindo," gio winks before you both share a laugh; something you missed sharing with georgina. because of your tight schedule and the fact that you play football in spain and don't live in riyadh with your parents and siblings, you'd missed out every single important thing that's happened in the ronaldo house. eva and mateo's sixth birthday, alana's first day of school, bella's first steps, junior joining the al-nassr academy. everything. "¿sabes lo que significa? bebés lindos." [i'm happy you're happy. and you're lucky because he's a cute boy. and you know what that means? cute babies.]

"mamá!" you try to stop gio from going any further. because babies? aren't you too young to be thinking about children right now? your career at barcelona had only begun to skyrocket, and joão had only recently began his season stint at the club. children and settling down should be the last thing on both your minds. although every now and then, you can't help but think about it. would you and joão last long enough for children of your own in the future? "i'm only 22." you mutter under your breath, soft enough for gio to completely miss it.

the referee's whistle snaps you out of your own thoughts — a place you'd often find yourself in when you're out of the pitch. you were worried about the fact that joão barely got to feel the ball. especially after he promised you he'd give you a strike tonight.

"no, i promise," his voice lingers around you from hours ago. "i'll make sure i get the ball, and it's yours, querida. eu prometo." [i promise]

well, he promised — and promises stick with you like gorilla glue. even at the ripe old age of 22, you still believe in pinky promises the way georgina still believes in romance movies. that's besides the point.

it was up till the point after your dad was awarded a penalty. he took it, it went in, your dad is a worldwide legend, blah blah blah. you knew it was bound to happen everytime portugal play. the game was inching up to 14 minutes as your legs begin to bounce nervously. what made it worse was that mateo was on your lap when it happened.

"querida, why are your legs shaking?" mateo's neck cranes to look at you. all you could give him was a weak smile.

"nothing, 'zinho. just nervous for papai like all of us, né?" you answer, hoping mateo will take it and leave it alone.

"you're nervous for joão." if there's one thing you could curse about mateo, it's how close he is to you, even though you no longer live with your family. on his day, mateo would feel lonely — even though he's a twin — and ask gio to facetime you. most of the time, he'd catch you at the right time; driving back home from training, going out for lunch with joão on an off day. and sometimes you wouldn't pick up, occupied with training for the upcoming game that week.

mateo would never fail to call you at least twice a month, understanding how tight your schedule is and that he has to leave you alone sometimes, afraid you'd be exhausted after a long day of training. sometimes you'd give him a call too, missing your queridinho on your day.

"não somos todos?" you nervously chuckle, your hands were resting on mateo's lap, its fingers slowly picking at your cuticles. [aren't we all?]

"si, but you're stressed," mateo pouts. "joão told me you made him promise to score tonight. and you know what, y/n? i hope he scores too." he gives you his typical mateo smile; the absolute sweetest thing you could ever see.

not even a mere few seconds later, a cross from bernardo comes in. you try to anticipate which portugal boy it'd reach. you released a breath you didn't realise you were holding when you see the ball making immediate contact with joão's head, as he nicks the ball in past the luxembourg goalkeeper.

the crowd was anticlimactic, though, you'd have to say. there is a totally valid reason for it. is joão offside or not? the referee blows his whistle, giving the goal to portugal as they now lead the game 2-0. you carefully picked mateo up as you stand, the boy's arms in the air as he celebrates the allowed goal from his hermano. you watch as joão turns to the grandstand your family is situated at.

you can only assume he's looking at you at that point, but gio turns to face you and mateo to state the obvious. "el te esta mirando!" gio screams in a whispery manner. you'd only assumed that, but you were wearing the white portugal away kit, allowing joão to identify you clear as day from the pitch compared to the rest of your family who were clad in black winter coats. you agree, the weather is a bit nippy in luxembourg.

joão looks you dead in the eye — or you assume — and crosses his arms. you immediately realise what it meant, smiling to yourself as your dad, bruno and bernardo begin to crowd him and give him words of congratulations on the smooth yet second nature goal of his.

you wait till after the game, where they defeat luxembourg 6-0 to regroup with joão and cristiano. cris, before anything, would engulf gio and bella first, giving joão full leeway to reach for you first. "did you see?!" the taste of excitement is still sweet and prominent on joão's tongue when he speaks.

"i saw! my celebration at barça. thief." you joke, pushing a fist into his bicep playfully.

"amo-te, linda. obrigado por estar aqui." joão smiles, not hesitating to squish your face into his chest. [i love you beautiful, thank you for being here]

"eu vim buscar o papai, mas tudo bem." you shrug jokingly before finding yourself in your papai's arms and listening to him thank you for coming to a portugal game — an away game, no less. [i came for dad, but okay]

#joão félix #joao felix #joão félix x reader #joao felix x reader #joao felix x you #joao felix x y/n #joao felix fluff #football #football x y/n #football x you #football x oc #football x reader

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kasha-formerlydrabbletastic · 8 days

Text

Single Blind Study

Eddie Munson x Reader x Steve Harrington

Word Count: 3k

Based on this prompt, originally by @stillgoingsteddie

Summary: After Steve and Eddie have discussed their fun times with the reader between themselves, they want to know who's the better lay.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Blindfolds. Fingering. Cunnilingus. P in V. Multiple partners.

"What is happening exactly?" you ask, your pulse picking up as Eddie's nimble fingers tie his bandana over your eyes. "You guys weren't really all that specific when you said you wanted to hang out."

"I suppose you could call it a trust experiment," answers Steve, sitting next to you as he pats your thigh.

Eddie snorts. "Experiment is a good word for it."

"But," Steve insists, "a good chunk of this is about trust, sweets. Eddie and I have been thinking, and talking."

You chuckle. "That's never a good thing."

Eddie gives your head a gentle shove when he finishes tying the bandana, muttering an amused "smartass" under his breath.

His weight shifts on the couch as he settles in, at the same time Steve is moving forward, seemingly kneeling before you.

"Do you trust us?" he asks, his hands on either of your knees.

Your hand lands on one of his, your fingers giving a gentle squeeze. "I'll trust you more when you actually tell me what's going on. Why am I not allowed to see?"

"Okay, here's the deal," Eddie says, scooting closer to your side; you feel his warmth through his jeans, his thigh pressed against yours as Steve's hands move from your knees up to your hips. Your body tingles in response to their touches, waiting in earnest for their explanation. "Though, full disclosure, we were kinda high when we started talking about this."

You snort. "When aren't you kinda high, Eds?"

"Get to the point," Steve says impatiently, thwacking Eddie on the knee. He offers a gentle apology to you as he caught your knee with the reproach, too.

"So, we were having a conversation the other day about how you and I have done the horizontal tango before and how you and Steve have also..."

"Fucked each other's brains out," Steve finishes, his fingertips gripping into your hips for a moment.

"Oh?" is all you say.

It's no secret between the three of you that you've opened yourself up physically for them both. It all started on a boring summer day last year while you and Eddie were waiting for Steve to get home from work. The two of you started talking about past experiences, and one thing led to another. Shortly after, Steve was lamenting another failed dating attempt, and you found yourself on his lap in his car after you dropped the kids off at the arcade. Since then, whenever the fancy struck you, or Eddie, or Steve, it was a given that you'd roll around in the sack together.

The images of either one naked and writhing under you, above you, behind you, moaning your name, hands all over your body stream through your mind, tingling through your bloodstream and straight to your core.

"We started comparing notes," Eddie continues, his tone getting softer as he moves closer to you; you feel his hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently.

"What notes are we talking about here?" you ask.

"Things you like, things you don't like," Steve begins. "What you sound like, what you look like."

"And weirdly enough, there's a few discrepancies we noticed," Eddie says.

"Yeah, like we both know you like to fuck in public," Steve says, "but for whatever reason you and I only fuck in the car in public, but with Eddie..."

"Dressing room at JC Penney's, movie theater, in the middle of a show at the Hideout, I could go on..."

You can hear Eddie's grin as your body heats up, remembering especially the night at the Hideout where he took you up against the wall with a full crowd around you.

"Steve, do you wanna fuck in more places?" you giggle, pressing your thighs together for just a little bit of friction.

"No," he says before he grumbles. "I mean yes, but that's not the point of this conversation."

"The point is, Steve and I compared notes about you," Eddie says, "but we don't know how we compare. I would say that some of our experiences match up, but there's not enough information to tell which of us fucks you better."

"Ooohhh," you reply. "So, you want me to just tell you about it? I can do that. Don't see what the point of the blindfold is."

"Nah, sweetheart," Eddie says. "This is more of a live comparison."

It takes a second, but as soon as the idea clicks, your body floods with arousal. Your tongue slips over your lips as you imagine what's to come, and you feel your cunt squeeze in anticipation.

"Right," you say after a steadying breath, "but why the blindfold?"

You can practically hear their smiles as they each take one of your hands into theirs.

"It's a proper single blind study," Steve said. "We're taking away some factors that might influence your decision making."

“We’re gonna watch in real time,” Eddie adds. “We’re gonna watch which one of us makes you feel better.”

Heat floods your body, the pulsing between your legs ticking up exponentially. Your heart pounds at the thought; you’ve never had both of them at the same time. Not that you’d never thought about it before, you just figured that it wasn’t necessarily something that they’d go for. But now, the opportunity of Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson fucking you simultaneously has arisen, and you have never been more up for anything in your life.

“One thousand percent yes,” you say, nearly stumbling over your words in your enthusiasm. “I would love to participate. Please, yes.”

“Told you she would, Harrington,” Eddie chuckles, and you hear another thump that could be Steve punching him on the shoulder.

“Alright, then,” Steve says. “Stand up, sweetheart.”

You follow the direction, getting to your feet as they hold onto your hands for support. With your other senses on alert as your vision is obscured, you finally notice that neither of them is wearing cologne, but they’re both possibly wearing the same deodorant. With their intentions bared, it makes sense; knowing their scents like you do would be a dead giveaway. Now that you think about it, both had also been cleanly shaven, no stubble on their cheeks to give either away. Even now, you're realizing Eddie wasn't even wearing his rings.

“Strip,” Eddie commands gently.

Your shirt comes off first and you drop it to the couch, the boys humming in appreciation.

“I might need some help with this bra,” you say, feigning helplessness. “Would one of you gentleman want to give me a hand?”

At once, there’s a pair of hands at your back that unhook the clasp as another pair slips the straps from your shoulders. The boys are just as needy as you are it seems, wanting to touch you in anyway they can. If only you had been there for their conversation about you, to hear their comparisons, and how you turn each of them on. With your tits on display, you feel your nipples pebble at the thought of each one being suckled by a different mouth, a different tongue swirling over the sensitive buds.

“God, these tits,” you hear Eddie groan, and you smile.

“The shorts next?” you say with the same faux helplessness.

Someone’s fingers tug at the button and zipper of your shorts before yanking them down your legs.

“Wait,” Eddie says, “didn’t I rip those panties off of you at the carnival that one time?”

“I bought her a new pair,” Steve answers. “Those are her favorite. Also… at the carnival?”

“Yeah,” Eddie replies, “we fucked on the Ferris wheel. That little mini skirt she was wearing drove me insane.”

You feel Steve pull you close, getting a gentle grip on your jaw as he directs your face to his. “We are fucking in more places, you hear me? I want to fuck you on a Ferris wheel.”

“Anywhere you want, Stevie,” you giggle, rolling onto your toes to press your mouth to his, but he doesn’t let you.

“Not yet,” he directs, pressing on your shoulders to get you onto solid footing.

You feel Eddie’s fingers grip the lacy panties you wear, pulling them down your legs and helping you step out of them. You hear him inhale deeply and you know for damn sure that Eddie just sniffed those panties.

“I’m tucking these away,” you hear him say.

“Don’t ruin those, too,” Steve replies quickly.

“Before you sit back down though,” Eddie says, changing the subject; you can hear his belt unbuckle, sliding through the loops on his jeans as he tugs it free. “We gotta make sure your hands are tucked away nice and safe so they don’t touch anything.”

“Why can’t I touch anything?” you counter, almost whiny in your inquiry.

“Well,” Eddie says, turning you around, looping his belt around your wrists, “it’s safe to say that there are definitive differences to the way me and Steve feel. Our hair feels different, our bodies feel different. You gotta remember this is a blind study and you’re not entirely blind if you can still use your hands.”

He guides you gently to the couch, making sure your hands are tucked carefully behind you. You get comfortable, listening to the rustle of their clothes as they strip, too.

“How are you that hard already?” you hear Steve gripe.

Eddie chuckles. “Like you’re one to talk. I’m surprised you haven’t cum yet.”

“If it helps,” you giggle, “I’m probably wetter than I’ve ever been right now.”

“Don’t make it worse, babe,” Steve replies. “Can’t wait to get into that pussy.”

“You’re telling me,” Eddie agrees.

“Now, one of us is gonna start,” Steve explains. “All you need to do is sit back, relax, and enjoy it.”

“How are you gonna figure out who goes first?” you say, but they’ve already gone into a game of Rock, Paper, Scissor, and you laugh. Best two out of three and they’re mum as to who won. You listen for any clues at all, anything that might give away the identity of who is about to please you, but it seems they’ve covered all their bases.

Neither of the boys speak, but you feel a hand on your knee as someone kneels before you, spreading your legs wide. The mystery man exhales before running a finger between your dewy lips, stopping to rub your clit gently.

“Oh, fuck,” you sigh, relief at finally being touched warming your core.

Two fingers slide into you, slowly pumping to get you started. Your restrained hands clench behind your back, eager to touch the one touching you, but instead, you simply moan, widening your legs to give him better access.

He continues, not making a single sound but the one his fingers make pumping in and out of your soaking wet cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” you keen as he begins to curl his finger against your G-spot, pressing harder on your clitoris as you squirm beneath his touch; he quickens his speed, listening to your body as it nears climax. “I’m so close… oh, fuck me…”

Your cunt squeezes his fingers before releasing with an orgasm, your body twitching as ride out the high.

You haven’t even begun to come down from that one before he hitches your legs over his shoulders and leans in, his tongue lapping up the mess he made with his hands. While this may be a classic Eddie move, you’re confused by the fact that you don’t feel his hair on your thighs. He must have pulled it all back for the experiment, but there are other ways to tell that it’s him.

He always grips your thighs with his callused guitarist’s fingers, pulling them apart to fit his head between your legs. His tongue lingers in your hole, dancing with the nectar that drips from you. When he’s satisfied, he glides along to your clit, lapping with the whole tongue before teasing it with the tip. He winds you up and you writhe beneath him, whimpering as the grip of another orgasm threatens to take over.

“Fuck, yes!” you nearly shout as he doubles down, coaxing that climax from you; your body shudders, ecstasy coursing through every vein. Your thighs clench around his head, your feet scrabbling to pull him closer to you.

The mystery man - presumably Eddie - pulls away shortly after, though, taking with him a whimper from your lips as he leaves.

It's not long, though, until you feel a pair of hips bumping against your thighs, spreading them apart once again. The hard tip of a cock tickles your heat, gliding up and down before notching into your entrance. Slowly, he enters, spearing through you until he's fully seated and your chest heaves with a satisfied sigh. He stays there, stretching your pussy as his thumb presses against your clit.

"Move!" you demand, hardly able to take the anticipation of waiting. "Please, fuck me!"

At once, he rears back, almost exiting you before he slams back in again. A moan dances from your lips as he enters a rhythm, steadily splitting you wide open with every thrust. His thumb still plays with your clit, tightening the coil in your belly as he circles it. You moan again, your body bouncing as his hips slam your ass.

You wrap your legs around Eddie's waist - you'd know that slutty little waist anywhere, especially between your legs - and he responds; keeping his thumb on your clit, the rest of his hands splay out over your hips, gripping you as his rhythm quickens. You grin, knowing damn well he's close to finishing.

Your cunt throbs, so close to a climax that you can practically taste it. With just the right stroke, you burst, ecstasy spilling down to the very tips of your limbs and back before you're suddenly empty.

He strokes himself above you, trying so hard not to make a sound as he spurts onto your belly.

You lay back on the couch, your chest rising and falling with hurried breaths before he pulls away.

"Oh!" you say, surprised when the next body takes his place and bends over you, running his tongue along the mess on your skin.

Bold of Steve to do so, you wouldn't have expected it of him.

Before you can say anything, however, he presses his fingers into your pulsing heat, drawing a moan from you as he massages your g-spot. He meets your lonely clit with his finger tips, not circling like Eddie would, but keeping a steady back and forth rhythm. It isn't long before he pulls the orgasm from your writhing body, overstimulated but basking in every minute of too much ecstasy.

Steve doesn't stop, though, leaning forward and lapping at your clit. He's hungrier than usual, seemingly rushing through his usually thorough routine of getting you off. His free hand grips your thigh open, his fingertips pressing into your flesh.

"Fuck," you sigh, making to move your arms and forgetting they're tied by Eddie's belt.

Your hips press up the closer your climax comes, wriggling against Steve as he brings you to a swift orgasm.

"Give me your cock," you moan after a spell and, on command, you feel him slip inside your soaking cunt, stretching you just as much as Eddie did.

Steve is definitely impatient, not teasing you like Eddie had, but getting straight to the point; his hips slam against your ass like he'll never be able to fuck you again as his hands grip your hips, holding you steady. You wrap your legs around him too, his body a little thicker than Eddie's.

"Yes," you gasp, growing closer to your next orgasm.

Like he's conditioned at this point, Steve's fingers find your clit again, pressing on it until you squeeze around him, moans dancing through the air from your mouth. He must think you can't hear him with all the noise you make, but he whimpers almost imperceptibly as he pulls out of you, his spend joining Eddie's on your tummy.

It's almost dream-like, the way your head swirls; you couldn't see a thing but your boys had you going like they've never done before.

"Okay, babes," you hear Eddie say, close to you. You feel his hands wrap around your head to relieve you of your blindfold. "There are those pretty eyes."

You blink against the light of the room, opening your eyes to see your boys head-to-toe naked, both with their hair pulled back. Eddie is standing close to Steve now, his cock hard once more. Steve's cock, on the other hand, is taking a well-deserved rest.

"Well, if I didn't know already, I definitely know now," you say with a giggle.

"What do you mean?" Steve asks, glancing at Eddie.

You point to Eddie's member. "If Eddie would've just finished he wouldn't be hard like he is right now."

Both their gazes aim for Eddie's dick.

"Okay," Eddie says, "but who was better?"

"What do you mean if you didn't know before?" Steve asks at the same time.

You sit up, allowing Eddie to remove his belt from your wrists. Steve picks up the discarded bandanna and cleans your tummy of the come.

"Eddie's a guitarist," you state simply. "His calluses gave him away almost instantly."

Eddie looks at his hands like they've betrayed him, then wraps one around his erection.

"Honestly," he says, "watching Harrington go at you was probably one of the hottest things I've ever seen. Not to mention, he licked my jizz off your stomach, babes."

"I was trying to throw her off," Steve says defensively. "I thought maybe she would think it was you licking my jizz."

"You want me to lick your jizz, Stevie?" Eddie teases, wiggling his tongue at him.

Steve seems to consider it for a moment before you pop in.

"The next person to say 'jizz' gets a beating. And not the fun kind."

"Seriously, though," Steve says, lowering to the couch next to you. "Who was better?"

The two look at you expectantly, each one eager to hear their name, but you can't let them have that satisfaction. A wicked grin pulls your lips toward your ears.

"Well," you say. "I can't decide."

"What?" they say together.

"We're just gonna have to keep studying, I guess."

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things

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gotham-daydreams · 6 months

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How would the yan batfam celebrate reader's birthday after they got them back?

Well, it can go a few ways, but I'll try to keep it short and simple for now!

First, the family will 100% fight over if they should throw a party now or actually wait until your birthday, because they definitely don't want to try and make up for all the one's they've missed, along with some other occasions that they absolutely want to celebrate with you.

It's a real mess, but what could one really expect from such a dysfunctional family? Though no matter what they settle on, it really depends on how long you've been with them.

If you've just 'gotten back' then it's probably something small, as they don't want to overwhelm you and want this to be another piece that eases you into your new way or life. Yet it definitely seems like some didn't get the memo as you are overflowed with gifts. You don't understand how they picked half of this stuff out, let alone why they bought it for you, but that's probably because they're guilt got to them and suddenly they had five times the amount of gifts they were originally going to get you. If the amount of gifts in the room pisses you off or you generally have a negative reaction to it, no one will let you go into the hall for a good portion of that day.

Besides that, you get some breakfast in bed, and maybe even lunch too if you didn't like the gifts- but expect a family dinner at the end of the day. They'll find ways to spend time with you, and most of the activities are either games that require multiple people, or the others will just... watch. Which may not have been so bad if you were in this particular situation.

Overall, while it is a little toned down they do still find ways to 'sneak' themselves into your birthday, and try to have fun all throughout the day. Though if you want to keep things more lowkey, then that's fine! But you'll still have to deal with them hanging around. You won't get a single moment to yourself.

If you've been 'staying' for a while, then they go all out and have the biggest celebration they can without any outside eyes peeking in. It may not be necessarily loud or anything but it's... a lot.

The moment you wake up (to which, you're most likely woken up by someone), your dragged out of bed and just about everyone is up and about like it's Christmas (and maybe it is, but I digress). Every meal of the day feels like some kind of feast, and they aren't trying to even hide the amount of gifts they've gotten you, which somehow all pertain to your interests one way or another. If anyone gets the same thing then you get to see a bit of a fight- so at least there's that, but unfortunately it's unlikely to last very long as everyone wants today to be a good day for you (and a great day for them).

Every activity/game is a family activity or deals with multiple players. They all take turns if there isn't enough for all of them to play with you all at once, but they work around it one way or another. If you want things to tone down, then you're either stuck watching a movie with everyone, or in a cuddle pile with most of the Batkids. If you couldn't get rid of them before- you absolutely cannot now. They make it near impossible to do so.

If you'd like to keep up your tradition with Alfred and bake with him, then you're more than welcome to!

If you 'just arrived' then you may be able to bake with Alfred in peace, minus the new observers that are a little too keen on watching you, and all too eager to taste test what you and Alfred end up making.

If you've been there for a while, then the family will try to turn the tradition from just you and Alfred, to you and the whole family. Even if it means turning the whole things into a game of some kind, or using other methods to get you to bake with them, they'll find a way to change it eventually... unless Alfred gets in the way of things. Though sometimes he may get sick and can't help you with the rest of the Batfam :[[

All in all, it's a mess! Who could've guessed? Ah, but really, it goes just about as well as you'd think. Very overwhelming and them justing to shove and further include themselves into your life by using your birthday to enhance that force. If you've just arrived, the force is lighter, and if not? It's heavier. Much, much heaver.

#talking daydreams #yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #gn reader

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fonteyn · 1 year

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something wrong with me and you

Pairing: Marquis Vincent de Gramont x afab!reader. No use of Y/N

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: smut. slightly dub/con, including spanking, teasing, making the other beg, etc. Minors do not interact. +18 rating.

Author's note: who knew me going to the movie theater to watch john wick 4 was going to bring my fic writing era back from the dead lmao, maybe I'll finish other fics I abandoned along the way

I do not consent to any of my work being reposted on other websites.

At first, it was a night like any other.

Until he showed up, deciding that on this evening you were worthy of his time.

His lips reached closer to the shell of your ear while you struggled to hold in a sigh. He’d been at it for hours, tentatively running his nose on your neck, poking for a show of weakness on your part.

And you knew you were at the precipice of failure. The relentlessness of his continuous challenges made an inevitable dent in your resolve to deprive him of his wishes.

"I can give you everything, mon amour”, his full body pressed you down onto the mattress, fingers gripping your inner thighs, “everything you could ever want and more."

At this point, this had become a bit of a habit of his. Speaking these infamous words every single time you were with him. To the point of annoyance.

Be it in the low lights during a theater performance, in the middle of a crowded restaurant, or - as you were now - in his bed, draped in nothing but luxurious jewelry and the expensive silk of his sheets. It seemed he had become fixated on tantalizing you with unreachable realities.

"Isn't that what you want, darling?", he teased with a playful smile, just before nibbling your shoulder, teeth sinking into your skin followed by the soothing of his tongue.

His pleasure in the act of mocking you was palpable, even more so when you were at a point of nearly squirming underneath him, "It is no shame to admit it", he continued, "don't you want to be all mine?".

You could no longer hold it in anymore, fighting power running out.

A shaky nearly broken moan left your lips along with a tremble through your body, and you threw your head back as his left hand found your waist. The right one lowering down smoothly - from your waist to your thigh, teasing the idea of doing something about the mess he created - before moving on, with a caress, all the way to your calf.

His hand settled, wrapped around your ankle, as he moved away from you, getting up from the four-post bed.

You were about to voice disappointment when you felt a tug on your ankles.

A surprise noise was once again dragged out of you as Vincent yanked you closer to the end of the bed, where he stood.

His once perfectly pressed shirt hung open. The slicked hair was now messy as a result of the good work from your fingers, both in the back of the limousine and on the elevator that took you both to the upper levels of his home.

Still pliant from all the effort he had put into making you putty in his hands, you lifted yourself up on your forearms, noting the harness of his length, which he had been rubbing against you ever since before you left the private dining room.

You were often fascinated by how the regality of his every move seemed impossible to rattle, even on the most heated nights.

A person could easily mistake the coldness of his stare to believe it meant indifference, after all, the Marquis de Gramont was a hard man to impress.

But you knew better.

You’d seen him beyond his title, his wealth, his ruthlessness.

And he had seen you.

His eyes almost twinkled from pent-up desire and as if he couldn’t help himself, he forcefully grabbed your chin, bringing your lips ever closer

Merely an inch separated you from the kiss that would soon follow.

Though before you could seal the deal, you became entranced by the sight of him licking his lips and the raspy whisper that followed.

"Say it to me. Say that you want to be my little marchioness. I can't give you what you want unless you say it."

You couldn't help but reach forward, your teeth sinking on his lower lip, making him hiss. Both of his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you in place.

A smirk on your lips was inevitable, "Who's doing the begging now?"

That would just about do the trick on him, his body stiffening immediately and you braced for what would soon follow.

“Well, the night is not over is it?”

He admired your defiance in the face of his authority. How most times, even if you stood before him deprived of a single stitch of clothing, you were still able to look him in the eyes, as if you held all the cards. As if he couldn’t - or wouldn’t - ever harm you in any significant way.

Refusing to back down, teasing him to react first.

Admit it first.

To say just how much he wanted you.

How much he craved for you. How he woke up and thought of you. How much he wished he was inside you all day, every day.

And sometimes, even more dangerously, how he saw a particular painting and thought of you. Wondered if you would like it. Played out in his head how he was going to tell you all about it and then show it to you. The same had been happening a lot with clothes. Gowns he saw and only pictured how you’d look wearing them, and the way he would go about getting them off later.

The look you gave him during dinner while sipping on the most expensive wine from his private collection…It was enough to make him want to stop the world. Bend you over the table and fuck you until you pleaded with him to let you finish.

Tonight, however, he was tired of your games. Vincent was no longer interested in making you squirm, he wanted to make you scream.

If you refused to admit your obvious desire when he was being so nice, he was going to make you beg out loud.

He flipped you around, sturdy hands on either side of you forcing you to go on all fours for him. Aware that you hated not seeing his face while he took you.

For a moment, he basked in that power.

Of how despite all your fight, your snark, your feigned indifference when he spent weeks without seeing you and suddenly turned up at your door, you were still pliable to his will.

One of his large hands maneuvered to make sure you couldn’t switch positions, holding your neck in place. The cold metal of his ring tingling against your skin. Demanding that you stare forward, towards the headboard, stealing from you even the mere possibility of catching a glimpse at what he was about to do.

A slap came down hard on your ass, earning him a choked gasp. His hand soothed the now pained spot for a second before another slap soon followed. And then continued his motions, one after another until you lost track of how many spanks you had gotten. Being only mildly aware of the prickling of your skin, and more consumed by the wetness dripping from your core.

A whine ripped through you as he finally placed his thumb on your pussy, caressing you thoroughly.

“Fuck…”, you muttered a satisfied near-sob.

“Mmmm…not yet, mon amour”, Vincent teased, “unless you’re ready to beg for it.”

He splayed his hand on your lower back, moving you closer to his cock, and you held your breath as you felt him gripping his length behind you.

“Are you ready, darling? Are you ready to beg for me?”

“Yes!”, you mewled, nearly adding a “please” after.

You knew he was shaking his head at you, “It is truly a pity you have not spoken the correct words.”

You hissed as he grazed the head of his cock on your entrance, teasing but not making any moves towards pushing inside.

Vincent smiled, if you wanted him you’d have to say it, and he knew you were close to breaking.

“F-uck, fuck, okay”, you relented, backing yourself up further against him, “please…please…fuck me, I can’t…I-I want you, I need you so fucking bad.”

He wanted to resist you, as you had resisted him. He wished he could.

Vincent liked to think of himself as a man with enough resolve to spare, but that was always a challenge when it came to you.

When he said he would give you whatever you wanted, you thought it was a tease, a joke, a lie. You were wrong.

Not another sigh from you was needed to make him plunge his cock inside you and set a fiery pace, embracing your warmth as he moved one hand toward your nipples, pinching them so hard you started screaming.

Time lost all meaning, and sounds felt far away as he pounded inside you, setting a relentless pace.

Neither of you spoke, but both panted in pleasure.

One of your hands reached out towards his own, the one that is holding your neck, intertwining your fingers in a way that allows you to finally move your head back towards him.

Searching for his lips.

Unable to deny you any longer - and consumed by his own desire - he complied. Draping himself closer and closer, as if he wanted to consume you fully. Covering your body with his own, devouring your mouth with vigor, until neither of you can hold on.

You’ve deprived each other for too long.

He waits for you to finish, a wave of ecstasy ripping through you, as he fucks you even harder, chasing his own release with a shout.

He soon lays down on top of you, and in your lightheadedness, your fingers intertwine with each other.

Holding on for as long as you can.

Unaware of the great lengths the Marquis will go to make you, his.

#marquis vincent de gramont #vincent de gramont #marquis de gramont x reader #bill skarsgard x reader #john wick fics #fics #mine #smut #bill skarsgard smut #marquis vincent de gramont smut

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partycatty · 2 months

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So ive been obsesed with janet cage since she appeared in the end of mk1 and now shes finally being released with peacemaker and im desperate for something ANYTHING PLEASE 🙏 😭

YOURE SO ME FR I LOVE JANET SO MUCH GENUINELY i need her so bad she's my pfp and banner on discord rn HAHA thank you for sharing your thoughts bc i was so afraid i was alone HEHE

janet cage > this one's for you, baby!

janet's got a wittle crush on the reader, and will go to stupid lengths to show herself off

notes: you're in the genderbent universe :3 but because i'm stupid, the chosen ones' names are gonna remain the same because i couldn't think of a genderswapped name for them and wasn't about to do them dirty with new names LMAO

[ masterlist ]

it was only a couple months into training, and things were looking... decent? at least, you could consider yourself improving. sure, combat was something you trained in, but when it came to you versus whatever horrors outworld contained, you tugged at the collar of your shirt.

janet, however, seemed unfazed. actually, she seemed ecstatic! you'd seen a couple of her movies and knew she could kick ass if needed. her physique impressed you, as did her endless charm and effortless ability to piss the swordswoman off. her attitude was brushed off for your sake. you knew she had just gone through a messy divorce with her ex-wife, is in talks of selling her mega mansion, and new roles were coming up dry. you'd think she'd be bitter but it turned out to be quite the opposite. her typical swagger and flourished gestures tore you from your thoughts.

"there she is!" janet exclaims, swinging a toned arm around your shoulder and tugging you close to her side. "you miss me? i bet you did!" you recall the last time you interacted with her: lunch. twenty minutes ago. even still, her perky attitude flustered you quicker than you'd like to admit.

"suuure," you sarcastically reply, hoping to toy with her ego a bit. "as if i didn't see you at lunch."

"it's hard to not miss me when i'm not around," she sighs dramatically, as if she has the hard life. "no need to lie to me, babe. you love having me around." your insides twist at the name. as you eyes are downcast, janet's eyes light up more than usual with a slight blush to her cheeks.

"whatever you wanna believe, miss A-List," you swat her arm, and she removes it though her grin remains unfaltered. janet pauses for a moment, lifting her sunglasses from her eyes and settling them on top of her head. you're winded by her beauty. you had seen it on screen as mentioned before, but there was some alluring power of her eyes when they were only a couple feet from your face. janet could kick ass, but she was also a gorgeous actress.

"tell you what," she shoots a single finger gun at you, once again removing you from your daydreams full of her face... among other things. "you won't have to miss me tonight. raiden and i planned to spar after dinner. you'll watch me kick her ass, right?" there was a hint of pleading, almost nervousness in her gaze. as if she needed you to say yes. her brows knitted together for only a single twitch.

"don't sweat," you reassure her, taking her strong hands in yours with a soft smile. "i'll be your cheerleader." with your confirmation, you turn on your heel and head the other direction to tend to your own duties. what you don't notice, however, is janet whooping to herself as soon as your back is turned.

just as the sun hits golden hour, you and the girls are waiting by the sparring ring. raiden stands straight, hands behind her back as she waits for her opponent to arrive. and so she does. janet comes jogging into view, waving at the crowd of monks and earthrealmers. she waves and smiles, blowing kisses to an unamused audience. she acts like it's another one of her performances. liu kang rolls her eyes.

"i bet your chakram hat that janet gets her ass kicked," you mutter to kung lao, who stood beside you with a smirk. she nudges your shoulder.

"aren't you supposed to be on janet's side?" kung lao mumbles back with a knowing grin. when you return with a perplexed frown, she scoffs. "everyone and their mother could figure out you're into her."

your cheeks puff up out of frustration, ready to rip kung lao a new one for being so loud and direct, but you see a hand snap in your face. snapping your neck to the source, you meet your eyes with janet's, who was leaning down to catch your attention.

"hey hey, eyes on me, sweet thing," her voice feels like honey when it drops low, and you snap back to her attention with a dazed look in your eye. your heel drives into kung lao's foot when you hear her snicker. "atta girl, check this out." a part of you dies inside from embarrassment. damn her and her confidence.

the spar begins, and admittedly it's evenly matched. punches are matched with kicks, parries and dodges slightly rile the crowd up from how equal the combat is. while raiden is calculated, janet is quick, and it becomes apparent that janet actually has a good chance.

that is, until she successfully knocks raiden to the ground. she's doubled over in pain, trying to prop herself up enough to come back from the near-knockout. janet winds up a fist almost comically, winding it in circles with a grin. just before she lands the blow, she turns to you with a beaming, cocky grin.

"this one's for you, baby!" janet shouts out, pulling her sunglasses down with her other hand to wink. before you could even consider being flattered, raiden flips up and shifts her weight, readying a godlike kick.

WHAM!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

janet sits awkwardly on the cot, fidgeting with the now broken pair of sunglasses in her hands. she can't seem to bring herself to focus on you, even as you're leaning into her to wipe her wounds.

"you should have been more careful," you gently scold her, holding her face up by her chin to wipe the dried blood on her nose. "i don't need the whole show to be impressed, janet."

she smiles lazily, eyelashes fluttering as she inspects your features. "did i at least look hot getting my nose broken?"

you want to sigh and scold her further, but you decided to indulge in her entertainment and smile back, and janet visibly tenses up at your warm stare.

"very."

her lazy smile turns into a lopsided grin as she realizes you're calling her hot. not that her ego needed it really, she knew she was hot. but you saying of it all people, dear lord she was reeling. although she was an actress, a damn good one, you could see she was visibly straining herself from losing it. so, considering you had the upper hand, you hold her face by her cheeks and squish gently with a teasing smile.

"you're blushing."

janet frowns dubiously. "am not."

"i can see it. you're blushing." your eyes flicker between hers, and then to her lips briefly. she sucks them in, focusing on your own lips with dazed eyes.

perhaps janet could use another lesson, you think. so, instead of indulging in what you both want, you let go of her face and place the bloodied rag in a discard bin, wiping your hands on your thighs. janet freezes with a pleading look, knowing exactly what you're doing. you're playing a sick game of cat and mouse.

"where are...?" janet's voice trails off sheepishly, the hardest indicator that you've caught her off guard. she wants to stand up and follow you out, but the monks told her to stay, and a pounding migraine from the blow made sudden movement difficult.

"gotta fight for what you want, janet," you coo innocently, waving with your fingers before you exit the tent. "just don't get your ass kicked. maybe then i'll reward you."

you're not around long enough to see the steam spilling from her ears and her beet-red cheeks.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader #janet cage #janet cage x reader #marley writes ☆

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mysecretlittlelibrary · 7 months

Text

Nervous

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: eh none actually

Genre: fluff

Summary: You need a date to convince your mom to stop meddling in your love life; "You've got me nervous to speak // So I just won't say anything at all" - Nervous by The Neighbourhood

***

"Yes mom I'll be there, of course I will." You roll your eyes as your mother talks your ear off. You love her, obviously but man sometimes it's like she only talks to hear herself, and now she's insisting you come to some party she's having.

"Good! I have a gentleman I'd love you to meet. He's my friend Theresa's son. He's so sweet. You'll get along great I think-"

"Mom if you're trying to set me up with this guy you're wasting your time." You cut her off.

"Wasting my time? Come now y/n do you have any plans to settle down ever? It's almost like you want to be single for the rest of your life."

"That's not what it is momma." You sigh.

"Well if that's not it then why wouldn't you want to meet him? He's a wonderful man."

"I'm sure he is mom but I'm very content with the state of my dating life, I don't need your help." You say.

"The state of your dating life? You have a dating life? Wait wait do you have a boyfriend?! Y/n you have to bring him on Saturday! I have to meet the man who finally managed to get your attention!"

"Mom I didn't say-" you pause and sigh. "If I bring my boyfriend to your party will you stop trying to set me up with people?" You ask her.

"As long as he's up to par I see no reason to ruin a happy relationship." She says.

"Fine. I'll bring- him on Saturday. Be nice."

"Of course, of course. I'll see you then darling." Your mom hangs up then and you breathe out.

"What on earth am I gonna do now?" You run a hand down your face and dial your friend.

"Y/n!" Natasha says excitedly.

"Hey Nat!"

"You're still coming, right? Wanda is totally psyched about movie night."

"Of course! I'm actually calling to let you know I'm on my way now. I'd have been over sooner but my mom called me and you know she can talk for ages." You tell her.

"No worries, but hurry up! We're waiting for you." Natasha says.

"I'll be there in twenty." You say before hanging up. You grab your things and head out the door to meet Natasha and Wanda over at Avengers Towers. When you arrive, Wanda meets you before you even make it all the way through the door.

"You're here!" She squeals throwing her arms around you.

"Of course I am. I wouldn't miss movie night." You say with a laugh.

"Okay we've already got snacks and stuff set up so come on." Natasha pulls you towards the living room as soon as Wanda lets you go.

"Prepared as always Romanoff." You chuckle.

"Duh." She shrugs.

"You took a while to get here so we had time to kill." Wanda says.

"Sorry about that, my mother's just insane." You scoff.

"What?" She frowns.

"I told her to stop meddling in my dating life and now she thinks I have a boyfriend that she expects to meet at a party she's having this Saturday."

"Wait you lied to your mom about having a boyfriend?" Natasha laughs.

"I told her I was content with my dating life and she got it in her head that I was implying there was a man in my life so now she expects me to bring one to her party or else she'll never leave me alone about dating."

"But you don't have a boyfriend. Do you?" Wanda looks at you.

"No. I don't, but if I don't produce one by Saturday she'll be setting me up with strangers for the rest of eternity." You sigh.

"What are you going to do?" Natasha asks.

"No idea. So if either of you wants to offer some advice I'm all ears." You say.

"You could borrow Vision. I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Wanda suggests.

"I- really don't think a red synthezoid would convince my mom that my dating life is going great without her honestly." You grimace slightly.

"Yeah she might just lock you away for that one." Natasha chuckles.

"Well do you have a better idea Natasha?" Wanda asks.

"Me? It's not like I have a boyfriend in storage you can borrow."

"Oh come on when have you ever met a problem you didn't have a solution to?" You scoff.

"Evidently today, finding a way to legitimize the lie you told your mother by producing a fake boyfriend for you is a bit out of my wheelhouse."

"I disagree." Wanda says.

"Don't disagree." Natasha shakes her head.

"We all know you could totally make shit shake if you gave it a second thought." You say. Natasha blows out an annoyed breath as she considers. The elevator dings then and out of it comes Steve, Sam, and Bucky. You each shoot greetings at the trio as they walk through to the hall.

"Oh hey Wanda, hey Nat! Hey, y/n I didn't know you were coming over tonight." Steve greets you all first.

"Hey ladies." Sam follows his lead.

"Hey Natasha, hey Wanda." Bucky says to your friends first, then without even looking at you he nods and mumbles your name as the group disappears. You roll your eyes. You're pretty used to Bucky's dismissive behavior towards you. He hardly even tries to be cordial with you. A nod and a grunt of your name is the best you'll get in terms of acknowledgment. Most of the time he straight up ignores you- not that it matters you guess. It's not like you come here to visit Bucky or anything but you can't help but wonder what it is you did to make him so vexed around you.

"Alright! Someone in this building actually owes me a favor. I could maybe cash it in to get you a fake boyfriend for Saturday." Natasha says.

"Would you really?!" You blink at her.

"I mean I know your mom can be- overbearing. If you really need an out with her, I will call in that favor. I don't need it for anything else right now anyway." She shrugs. You throw your arms around her excitedly.

"Thank you Natasha! You have no idea what you're saving me from!" You tell her.

"I know you'd do the same if the shoe were on the other foot." She shrugs.

"Wait, who are you asking?" Wanda asks her.

"Well I've got a couple of options so I'm not gonna make any promises until I confirm." Natasha says. You give her a suspicious look at her response. She's probably up to something but it's not like the who matters so much, plus it's not like you don't already know everyone who could owe her a favor 'in this building'. You can make it work.

"That's so vague?" Wanda frowns.

"Shhh let's start the movie." Natasha says. You roll your eyes with a laugh as she presses play on your first watch of the night. You spend most of the night with them, laughing your way through movies until entirely too late.

It's not til Friday that Natasha calls you regarding your mom's party. It's not that you forgot she was going to take care of things, you just had other things to think about during the week.

"Hey Nat."

"Hey! You still need a fake boyfriend for your mom's thing tomorrow, right?"

"Oh, well yeah. Don't tell me you couldn't call in that favor. I don't have time to put a backup plan in motion if you didn't- you waited til the day before to call-"

"Have I ever let you down?" She asks.

"Well-"

"Nevermind. I've sorted it out. He'll come pick you up at 1. You said the party's at 2 right? Should give you plenty of time to-"

"Oh no my mother's parties don't ever start on time, since it starts at 2 he should come get me by 3. Also who- is coming to get me?"

"3? Alright, I'll let him know, I have to go now though- I'm being summoned to defuse- something. I dunno."

"Natasha who is coming to get me?" You ask.

"Have fun tomorrow, bye babes!" Natasha hangs up before you can repeat your question and honestly, that alone should've told you what kind of stunt she would be pulling but you can't even describe the shock on your face when Bucky knocks on your door the following afternoon.

"James!?" You blink at him.

"Are you ready to go?" He sighs.

"Wait a second Natasha got you to take me this afternoon?"

"Well, it's not like I came here just because."

"This is- okay sure, whatever. Let's go." You grab your purse and lock your apartment before following Bucky down to his car. The first half of your drive is pretty quiet, neither of you willing to break the silence.

"Do you have a story?" He asks eventually.

"What?"

"For your mom. I'm pretending to be your boyfriend so we need a story."

"Oh- well to be fair I didn't know Nat would be sending you until you showed up at my door. Since we do actually know each other it's not like we have to fake much. We met through Natasha, you were immediately obsessed with me and extremely determined to woo me, took you months to finally get my attention though and the rest is history." You shrug. You're joking of course.

"Obsessed with you?" He scoffs.

"It's a story James it doesn't have to be the truth."

"But it does have to be believable."

"I don't like what you're implying." You pinch him. "Wing it then. I don't care really just as long as it convinces my mom I don't need her matchmaking." You turn your attention to the passing scenery, effectively ending your conversation til you arrive at your mother's ten minutes later.

"You should know, nobody close to me calls me James. I might forget to respond if you use it." He tells you before getting out of the car. You roll your eyes and get out too, the two of you walking around the house to the backyard where the party is in full swing, although you're sure it's only just gotten to that point. Your mother spots you before you can even finish surveying the situation and makes a beeline towards you.

"Y/n!" She beams pulling you into a hug.

"Hi ma." You say, your reaction much more subdued than hers.

"And who might you be?" She turns her attention to the man beside you.

"Mom this is Bucky, Bucky meet my mother." You say.

"The boyfriend?" She asks you with wide eyes.

"Yeah." You nod.

"Bucky- that's a strange name."

"Don't start momma. It's a nickname, short for his middle name Buchanan. His first name is James but no one really uses it." You sigh.

"Hm." She hums. "Well, Bucky I have a lot of questions for you! Let's get you some food. Y/n go say hi to people!" She loops her arms through his and practically drags him off. You cringe and mouth an apology to him.

You only leave him alone for like 20 minutes, enough to make your rounds greeting other guests and to make your own plate. When you return your mother is laughing with him excitedly, even Bucky is smiling slightly and you almost can't believe it.

"Y/n! I can't believe you've never told me about him. James here is adorable!" Your mother gushes as you join the pair.

"Well it's- not that I was hiding him from you or anything." You mutter. Bucky puts an arm around your chair when you settle in beside him.

"You definitely didn't share. No worries, James has been answering all my questions quite well." She smiles.

"Has he now?" You give Bucky a sweet look but your eyebrow quirks up in a silent question.

"Your mother just wanted to know how we met so I told her about Nat bringing you around to the tower, that first time I saw you." Bucky tells you.

"Oh y/n he makes it sound so dreamy, you should hear what he said about you!" Your mom says.

"What did he say?" You ask skeptically.

"It's so much better coming from him, James tell her what you said to me." She demands. Bucky chuckles a bit, his cheeks turning the lightest shade of pink.

"Mrs. y/l/n I don't think she wants to hear-"

"Oh no, please share. I'd love to hear what you're feeding my mom to have her so animated baby." You throw in the pet name at the end and place a hand on Bucky's knee, the combination making him shift under your gaze.

"I just- said that I knew from the moment I saw you that my life would never be the same. That the first time Nat introduced you to us, it felt like taking a breath for the first time, like my life was incomprehensible and I didn't know it until your eyes met mine and suddenly the world made sense in ways I didn't even know possible. That you brought me to my knees in awe of you, rendered me- useless." Bucky's voice is gentle, too gentle, too raw, his eyes are intense and you have to find a way to break the tension. Now. You blow out a breath and tap the back of your hand against his chest lightly in a playful smack.

"You spend too much time reading poetry. You sound like a Shakespeare sonnet darling. No wonder my mom's all starstruck." You laugh and Bucky blinks at you in shock, as if you're reaction caught him off guard. He recovers quickly though and laughs a little.

"What can I say? You bring out the Parnassian in me." Bucky says with an easy smile. Situation diffused. You need to be careful. He's maybe a little too good at this. You almost believed him.

"Oh you two are so cute!" Your mom gushes.

"Mom." You groan and Bucky chuckles. Someone calls your mom away then and she leaves you with Bucky as she tends to the rest of her party.

"Who knew you could be such a sap. I'm impressed, you really sold the story there." You nudge him lightly with your elbow. You only just catch the incredulous look he shoots your way in reply. "Why are you looking at me like that? It's a compliment, Barnes." You frown at him. In that moment you wish you understood him enough to read his face but in the stretch of silence before he answers you, no amount of searching gives you an explanation to the way he's staring at you.

"Nothing." He shakes his head. You squint at him for a moment longer as if you expect the truth to pop up over his head before you decide not to press the issue.

"If you say so." You hum. The party goes on for a few hours longer and while you try not to leave Bucky alone too many times, several guests haven't seen you in years and insist on catching up. Bucky seems content to sit and watch most of the action anyway, assuring you he's fine every time you check on him. Somehow you end up staying long enough to help your mom with some of the cleaning up before you finally begin the drive home. Neither of you speaks on the drive back to your place. You need the time to decompress from all the socializing anyway. It isn't until Bucky's walking you up to your apartment that either of you says anything.

"Thank you for today. I know you did it as a favor to Nat and all but it really helps with getting my mom off my back so, thanks." You say.

"Like you said, just doing a favor." He shrugs.

"I know. Still you- did well. All that stuff about breathing for the first time and being brought to your knees when we met, it was- very romcom. I almost believed you." You chuckle.

"Almost?"

"Well yeah- unlike my mother, I have the context of the rest of our interactions so- although the words were very sweet I know they were just for the story." You shrug.

"Is that what you think?" He looks at you with a frown.

"Oh come on we don't have to do this. You and I both know you can barely be in the same room with me, you practically shut down whenever I'm over. You are by no means subtle about your dislike and that's fine, you don't have to like me but we don't have to pretend this was anything more than a favor to your coworker." You say.

"A favor to my coworker? You think I did this just because Natasha asked me?!" Bucky scoffs.

"Yeah that's usually how favors work." You shrug.

"Have you ever stopped to think about it for more than a minute?"

"Think about what?" You ask, grabbing your keys from your bag to unlock your apartment door.

"Why I don't say much when you're around. Have ever given it more than a moment's thought?" Bucky asks and you turn to look at him with your brows furrowed. His voice is getting a bit louder and you're taken aback. He's not quite yelling but you can tell he's impassioned and you're very unsure as to why.

"Are you angry with me because I can't read your mind? How is that my fault? You don't talk I assume it's because you don't want to that's usually why people don't talk." You frown.

"I'm not angry with you." He says.

"Well you sound angry, you look it a bit too, your face is getting kinda red." You mutter.

"Yeah that happens!"

"When you're angry?"

"When I'm around you!"

"What?" You blink at him and he sighs.

"I don't talk because I'm afraid I'll say something stupid, I don't stick around because you make me so nervous I'm sure I'll do something stupid and even if I don't the moment you speak to me I'm worried my face will give me away. I wasn't selling a story to your mom- meeting you really did feel like breathing for the first time I am completely and utterly hopeless when it comes to you I- I care for you, a lot, and knowing you don't feel the same-"

"You're an idiot." You cut him off.

"I know." He frowns, eyes dropping to his shoes. You lift his face gently with your hands on his cheeks.

"I meant for assuming I don't feel the same without even asking me." You say softly. "I can't say for sure how much I care about you since- you've basically avoided me since we've met but I do think you're attractive. So if you decide to ask me on a date, we can take it from there. Okay?" You tell him, hoping the sincerity is clear in your eyes as you look at him.

"Will you go on a date with me?" He asks so quietly his voice is a whisper.

"I would love to." You say with a smile.

"Is it too soon to kiss you?" He asks and while under normal circumstances you would absolutely say yes, you simply giggle and press your lips to his. You keep the kiss short but the look in Bucky's eyes when you pull away is one you'll never forget. Bliss and adoration shine brightly as he gives you a dopey smile.

"That's all you get until our date. So make it good." You tell him.

"It'll be the best date you've ever been on."

"That's a big promise."

"And one I intend to keep."

"I'll believe it when I see it. Goodnight Bucky."

"Goodnight y/n. I'll call you about our date soon."

"You'd better." You smile one last time before shutting your apartment door although you really don't want to. You're practically floating through your apartment as you get ready for bed completely content with the way things unfolded. You'd have to give Nat a call and thank her probably- turns out it wasn't Bucky doing her a favor but her doing one for both of you.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky #bucky barnes fluff

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 3 months

Note

we need more Ethan x reader fluffs or series!

Hi! I know that not everyone wants to read NSFW stuff, but that's a little hard when a lot of my requests aren't for fluffy things. SO, I wrote this, and if anyone wants it to be continued, I'll definitely write more for it:)

Feeling This - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Part 2

Summary: Your friends try to set you up.

This contains: Fluff, the occasional f-bomb.

A/N: If you guys want more parts of this, let me know:)

ps - changed the title because I hated it 🙄

You met Mindy in a film studies class, and the two of you got close as you bonded over the stuff you liked to watch. She invited you to a movie night at her friend Tara’s apartment, and you were so excited. Your anxiety was all over the place after transferring to a new university, so you were really looking forward to making friends in a more relaxed setting.

You met up with Mindy and Anika before going to Tara’s, the three of you talking as you walked.

“So, what’s the movie for tonight?” Anika asked Mindy, as their fingers laced together.

“It’s Chad’s choice tonight. Odds are, it’ll have a hot female lead,” Mindy groaned, rolling her eyes.

“Who’s Chad?” you asked, still not knowing everyone in the friend group yet.

“Oh, he’s my brother. Ethan will be there, too. You remember the quiet guy we ran into in the library?” Mindy asked, and you weren’t sure how you could forget him. He was definitely shy, but very attractive.

“Yeah, I remember him,” you said, as Mindy and Anika smirked at each other.

“I think you should get to know him,” Mindy said, making you scoff.

“Hey, I’m cool with this whole ‘single’ lifestyle,” you said, “He’s cute, but every guy I’ve met since I got here only has one thing on their mind.”

You cringed at the thought of the most recent guy you went out with. He shoved his tongue down your throat during the first kiss, and it was so awkward.

“That’s the best part!” Mindy yelled, “Ethan’s a virgin!”

You got a few glances from people walking along the sidewalk that was only lit by the glow of streetlights.

“Mindy, what the fuck?” you laughed, your cheeks turning red.

When you got to Tara’s, the three of you settled in on the couch as you waited for Ethan and Chad to get there.

“Hey,” Tara smiled, greeting you.

“Hey, thanks for having me over,” you said, as the guys walked in.

“What’s up?” Chad asked everyone as he gave Tara a side hug.

You were introduced to Chad, and re-introduced to Ethan, as Mindy started to tell people where to sit.

“And I think right here would be perfect for you two,” she said to you and Ethan. It was obvious that she was trying to see if there was any type of connection there, and the smirk on Chad’s face as he glanced between you and Ethan made you think that he was in on it, too.

Ethan sat down first as you took your place between him and Mindy.

“What are we watching?” Anika asked Chad, as he sat on the opposite side of the room with his arm around Tara.

“Jennifer’s Body,” he said, a cheesy smile on his face.

“See, told ya so. Hot female lead,” Mindy mumbled, throwing a piece of popcorn at him.

“Hey, the movie is like a big deal for feminists. I thought you’d approve.”

Once the lights were turned off and the movie started, everyone snuggled up with their significant others, as you and Ethan just sat there.

“I know this is awkward, but I’m happy to not be a fifth wheel this time,” Ethan said with a small laugh.

“I could understand why you’d feel that way,” you whispered, looking around the room.

Mindy looked over to see the interaction, smiling to herself. “You know, there’s like, a foot of space between you guys.”

You scooted closer to Ethan, your leg touching his.

“Happy?” you asked, Mindy nodded in approval.

Ethan’s heart was pounding in his chest as you sat close to him. His hands stayed in his lap, trying hard to focus on the movie.

“Hey, you want some popcorn?” you asked after Mindy passed you the bowl.

“Yeah, sure.”

After a few minutes, his hand reached in the bowl at the same time yours did, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, pulling his hand back. He was so nervous. It was adorable.

“What? You scared I’m going to go all ‘Jennifer Check’ on you?” you asked, referring to the main character’s desire to eat boys.

“I don’t know, you might,” he laughed, as everyone exchanged their glances again. “What?” Ethan asked, as Chad’s eyes were on him. He was trying to make a hand motion to tell him to put his arm around you, until you looked in his direction and tried to make it seem like he was just stretching.

“You guys are so bad at this,” you laughed, shaking your head. “You made me sit closer to him,” you gestured to Mindy, before looking at Chad, “And you’re trying to help him put moves on me. Maybe try to be a little less obvious.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to help my boy out,” Chad said, as Ethan’s face turned red. He was so thankful that the room was dark aside from the glow coning off the tv.

“Well, your boy can put his arm around me if he wants to.”

Ethan smiled at you, readjusting so his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you even closer.

“You know what, I like you. You’re feisty,” Chad said, making you laugh.

When the movie was over, Ethan pulled his arm away from you. Confusion set in, thinking maybe you read the situation wrong. Maybe he just did it because his friend wanted him to. You soon felt his fingers brush against yours, loosely lacing them together. You smiled as his thumb rubbed against the top of your hand.

Everyone was talking about what they liked and didn’t like about the movie, as you talked to Ethan.

“I’m sorry tonight was so awkward,” he ran his free hand through his hair as he spoke to you. “I’ve had this crush on you since that day in the library. I kind of begged Mindy to help me out with you.”

Your eyes widened as you started to giggle. “So, this was all your master plan?”

“I didn’t expect them to make things so obvious, though,” he said, looking between the twins.

“Dude, you wanted help. You’re holding her hand right now, so I’d say that’s a win,” Chad said, directing his attention back to Tara.

When you started to get up to leave, Ethan offered to walk you home. It gave you time to actually talk to him without everyone’s eyes on you. Once you arrived at your door, you could tell that Ethan was getting nervous.

“You okay?” you asked, a sweet smile playing on your lips.

“Yeah, uh, would you maybe want to go on an actual date with me? I don’t know what your schedule looks like, but I’m free Saturday if you’d like to go to dinner.”

“That sounds great,” you said, swooning at the confidence he was starting to gain.

You leaned over to peck his cheek before he walked away, wanting to actually kiss him, but you didn’t know if he was ready for that.

“Bye,” he said, waving to you as you unlocked the door.

Once you were inside your dorm, you leaned your back against the door, a goofy smile on your face. It was refreshing to have an interaction with someone that was your type, that wasn’t just trying to get in your pants.

You heard a light knock on the door, not even two minutes after you’d made it inside. You opened it to see Ethan.

“Hey, I know this is weird, but I was kind of getting this vibe and I might be wrong, but is it okay if I kiss-“

You cut him off, pressing your lips to his. It was sweet and gentle, just like you’d hoped.

“Goodnight, Ethan,” you said, blushing at the smile on his face.

“Goodnight.”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #jack champion #jack champion x reader

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ayanominitrash · 5 months

Text

🌹You, me, prom? JJK x Reader🌹

All I ever wanted was to go to prom!

Jjk characters asking you to be their prom date in case you've never been to one:

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

₊˚ ♡

Gojo - dramatic

💙 would bother everyone in his friend group for ideas or for their help orstracizing this event

💙 he'd probs gather a band and do something as cliche as a sing and dance in your school hallway

💙 he'd stayed up all night making the banner of 'will you marry me' full of rose petals stuck at the edge of the paper

💙 marriage? Like I said, dramatic.

💙 or would probably prank you, sending one of your close friends to tell you that he was badly injured cus he got jumped, only for him to pull out a single rose from his back pocket in the middle of your sobbing session when you were yelling for someone to call 911

💙 you almost said no cus of that prank

₊˚ ♡

Geto - in private, more intimate

🖤 he'd ask you at some type of usual hangout, he'd want you to be comfortable

🖤 like in the library, sliding a sticky paper to you with his elegant writing. It'd be in the middle of your quiet study session. You read: 'pretty girl, be my prom date?'

🖤 or maybe at the cafe you two would frequent, the question scribbled in the barista's scrawny penmanship all the while misspelling your name 💀

🖤 easy yes for you, the two of you would continue whatever you're doing after that, settling in a comfortable silence while holding hands

₊˚ ♡

Sukuna - blunt, casual

❤️ 'so, we on together for prom, right'? 💀

❤️ 'I'll pick you up by 6pm.'

❤️ honestly, you weren't sure if he was going to ask you at all so you were already thinking of a way to ask him first

❤️ 'are you asking me to prom? You know what? Fuck it, yeah.'

❤️ he'd probably drag you away from the venue to leave prom early and do something more to his liking, 'This shit's too cheesy.'

₊˚ ♡

Shoko - low key sweet, comedic

🤎 will probably give some type of pastries or chocolate with a short handwritten letter about all of her admiration for you and asking you to be her prom date. She'd read this letter out loud for you and kiss your cheek if you say yes.

🤎 if she was feelin' a little goofy, she'd probs ask you the question and have the words 'yes' and 'no' written in two separate cigarette sticks. She'd tell you to light the one that says your answer 💀

🤎 'Since you lit this one, you owe me a cigarette :))'

₊˚ ♡

Naoya - almost formal, a bit of an ass

🧡 prolly ask while eating dinner at his family home, just the two of you, your hand in his. "I'd like to be your date for prom."

🧡 Will immediately sigh in relief and let go of your hand as soon as you said yes. "Good. As you should. You're going to have to dress well if you're going to be seen out with me. You have the budget for a dress or…?"

🧡 he's spewing all this while you can see his hands trembling, trying to cover this nervous tick as he moves his utensils. He ain't slick. He's secretly as excited as you are.

🧡'we're going to match our outfits, of course.'

₊˚ ♡ - - - -

Bonus:

Mei Mei:

💜 I'll be your prom date - name your price.

💜 (I was gonna insert a joke bout u know what but it's best to stop myself here).

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

(❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡ reblogs and comments are appreciated//do not repost my work anywhere

These are probs cliche's from the movies, sorry. The school I was going to during my Junior year didn't do proms :(( Which one from here is ur fave? Or how were you asked if you went to prom? Help me cope lol.

I'm thinking of opening asks, is that even a good idea cus I get frequent writing blocks,

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lolahasmoxie · 2 years

Text

Sleep Tight - E.M.

Pairing: Single Dad Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Word Count: 3.8K (this may have gotten away from me)

Warning: fluff, idiots to lovers, a couple of curse words

Notes: This has been living in my brain for days, and I had to get it out. So everywhere I've read Eddie as a dad, he has a little girl. Don't get me wrong, I love it. But can you imagine him with a little boy who is his tiny doppelganger? Dead.

For this, I picture Eddie and Reader as having known each other since they were kids, and both were close growing up. Eddie flunked his first senior year, and reader graduated and left Hawkins for college. They kept in touch for a while but eventually drifted apart. She returns to Hawkins and reconnects with Eddie and his 4-year-old son. Mom has been out of the picture since he was born, and I picture Eddie as a mechanic who plays with Corroded Coffin on the weekends.

Eddie and Reader are 28 in this (takes place in 1994). An AU where the Upside Down doesn't exist, and Eddie lives.

Divider from @firefly-graphics

"Daddy, rain!"

Eddie and Y/N paused from the couch as they looked at the small four-year-old excitedly pointing out the window. The rain shouldn't have been a surprise; it had been gray and overcast all day. Eddie walked over to the front window, looked outside, and noticed a bright flash of lightning followed by thunder less than three seconds later. Before he could say anything, the skies opened up, and a torrential downpour began to beat on his roof.

"Crap, I should probably leave if I'm gonna make it home in one piece," Y/n pondered as she joined the two Munson boys at the window.

"Are you insane? There's no way I'm letting you leave now." Y/N had joined Eddie at his home for dinner instead of at Benny's due to his son's babysitter canceling last minute. The three had spent the evening playing, eating pizza, and finally settling to watch Ghostbusters. She had been on the verge of excusing herself for the evening when the storm had come upon them.

"Eds, my car will be fine. Besides, I can't stay the night." Y/N casually tried to motion to his son, who was now staring at her and preparing himself to bring out the big guns.

"But I thought we were having fun." Ronnie Wayne Munson was his father on a 24-year delay. He had the same wild curly brown hair and brown cow eyes as Eddie, and based on how he looked at Y/N, she knew his father had taught him how to use them to his advantage.

"Look, far be it for me to question the integrity of your Honda, but it’s not like this would be the first time you had to stay; you used to crash all the time when we were kids. Besides, it's unsafe to be on the road right now. You can't even see the house across the street!". Y/N turned back towards the window, and she had to admit that Eddie was right. Even with streetlights, the house across the street was nearly impossible to see. She sighed before looking at Eddie and his boy standing next to him, both with expectant looks on their eager faces.

"Okay, I'll stay."

"Hooray!" Ronnie yelled as he ran up to give her a hug. Eddie beamed at Ronnie. He was usually reserved around new people, but as soon as Y/N had reappeared in Hawkins two months ago after a ten-year absence, Ronnie had taken an instant liking to her. The little boy seemed as infatuated with her as his father had been years before.

"So, how late is this party going to go on?" Y/N asked as Ronnie climbed back onto the couch.

"Well, little man's bedtime is usually 7pm..." Ronnie looked at Eddie with a sad face. Y/N had just agreed to stay the night; it was unfair that he would have to go to bed soon. "but since tonight is a special occasion, I think we can watch one more movie."

"Yes!" Y/N couldn't help but chuckle as Ronnie did a triumphant dance before jumping off the couch. "Can we watch Nightmare Before Christmas?"

"Sure, let's get you into your jammies."

"I'll make the popcorn." Y/N motioned to the kitchen, and Eddie quickly told her where everything was. As she popped the bag in the microwave, she couldn't help but smile at the giggles emanating from Ronnie's bedroom. Eddie now lived in a small house on a quiet street near the edge of town, which felt warm and cozy like his and Wayne's old trailer. The coffee rack in the kitchen now held Eddie's mugs instead of Wayne's, and his beloved Sweetheart sat in the corner of the living room next to his acoustic and amp. Above the well-loved couch were numerous pictures, ranging from Eddie's graduation to him holding his newborn son in the hospital. There were several with the two of them and Wayne, and even one of her and Eddie from back in 83.

The sound of little feet coming from the hallway pulled her from her thoughts, and soon she was greeted by Ronnie, who was now wearing dinosaur pajamas. He ran up to her and wrapped his arms around her leg. He leaned up to give her a big toothy grin.

"Hi," he said cheerfully, and Y/N couldn't help but chuckle.

"Well, don't you look comfy? You ready for the movie?" He nodded gleefully as the timer for the microwave went off. She carefully removed the bag and poured the contents into a bowl, handing it to Ronnie when he made it clear that he had to help her. "Two hands, go slow, ok?". He nodded, his little tongue sticking out in concentration as he made the short journey to the living room. They both sat on the couch while Eddie quickly popped the VHS into the tape player, pausing to turn off the living room lights before he sat down.

Ronnie sat between the two of them, and the three of them snacked as they watched the movie. The kid was on cloud nine, happily eating popcorn and singing along to the movie. Eddie's arm eventually rested on the back of the couch, causing Y/N to blush whenever his fingertips brushed the top of her shoulder. When the popcorn was gone, the bowl was moved to the side, and Ronnie took this as his cue to make himself more comfortable.

"Whoa, we don't climb on our guests." Eddie chided as he watched his son climb onto Y/N's lap. He was worried it would make her uncomfortable, but he was pleasantly surprised when she put her feet on the coffee table and wrapped her arms around Ronnie's stomach, letting him rest his back against her chest.

"He's fine, now hush."

"Yeah, Daddy, the movie's on." Eddie's eyes bulged from being sassed by not only his son but also his childhood friend. As the evening progressed, he kept stealing glances at the two of them. From the way Y/N would rub Ronnie's stomach to how they would occasionally whisper and giggle with each other, his emotions were all over the place. As the rain continued to beat against the roof, Ronnie eventually gave in to sleep. When the credits finally rolled, he was sleeping contentedly on Y/N's lap, her hand rubbing over his tummy soothingly.

"That kid usually has to be dragged kicking and screaming to go to bed," Eddie commented as he gingerly reached over to take Ronnie from Y/N. She grinned as she handed him over, stretching her arms above her head once he was safely in his father's arms. "Hey, once I get him in bed, would you be up for a movie?" he asked hopefully.

"Sure. Do you have anything I could change into?"

"I've got you, be right back." Y/N watched as he disappeared down the hallway into Ronnie's room. To be honest, when she had run into Eddie on her first day back in town, she had expected it to be awkward. After all, they hadn't seen each other in ten years. Yet, in the two months they had spent reconnecting, it felt like no time had passed at all. They quickly fell back into their dynamic, which had been created over numerous sleepovers and hangouts during their childhood. When Eddie returned to the living room he held up a clothing item in each hand.

"Okay, so the boxers are old and very stretched out, but they're clean, and the shirt was a gag gift from Henderson."

"Gag gift?" she asked, and had to bite her lip when Eddie unfurled an oversized shirt that had "Virginia is for Lovers" emblazoned across the front. "That is amazing."

"Go change; I'll pick the movie. Horror okay?" Y/N nodded as she shuffled into the bathroom. Eddie hummed to himself as he tried to pick a movie for them to watch. He was mentally preparing to keep his cool when he heard the bathroom door open a few minutes later. Whatever composure he had quickly flew out the window when he saw her adorned in his clothes, and she looked at him expectedly as she waited for him to say something. "Um, everything fits ok?"

"Yeah, the boxers are a tad tight around the thighs, but it's no biggie. Now, what are we watching?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but I haven't seen "The Thing" in ages."

"Fuck," she chuckled as she sat back down on the couch. "I think the last time I saw it was with you." Eddie popped in the video and sat next to Y/N.

"Well then, let's get to it, shall we?" The movie started, but it wasn't long before Eddie and Y/N started talking. Old inside jokes and stories passed between them, quickly resulting in giggles that they tried to keep quiet so they wouldn't wake Ronnie. When the movie ended, they kept talking, the rain becoming static noise as their conversation moved to their love lives.

"Wait, he cheated on you?" Eddie asked incredulously as Y/N took a sip from her beer.

"Yeah, had a side piece for like two months before he finally had the balls to break up with me. You want to know something funny?" Eddie shook his head as he watched her settle into the cushions more, a sigh leaving her lips. "I wasn't even that mad about it."

"You'd been with the guy for over the year, and he cheated; I'm shocked you didn't set his car on fire. Fuck, Jason Carver started that rumor about you sophomore year, and you took a bat to his headlights." Y/N giggled at the memory.

"I also told the cheerleading team he had a micro-penis, but that's not the point. And don't get me wrong, it sucked that he didn't have the balls to just break up when he realized he didn't want me anymore. But, in the end, I wasn't angry like I thought I would be."

"You were together a while, though." Y/N sighed as she thought over her response.

"When I was little, I remember asking my Mom why she married my Dad. She said it was because she felt this spark every time she saw him; she said she knew from their first date that he was the one for her. Over a year with Daniel, and I never once had that feeling." She paused as she turned to look at Eddie. "Did you ever feel that way with Ronnie's mom?"

"Veronica?" asked before running a hand over his hair, letting out a heavy sigh as he thought about his son's mother. "We weren't together long before we found out she was pregnant, we hadn't been very serious before, but since there was a kid on the way, we decided to give it a shot. Turns out we were two puzzle pieces from two different puzzles."

"When did she leave?"

"Left when Ronnie was 3 months old. Said motherhood wasn't for her, and she felt it would be best if Ronnie didn't grow up with a Mom who resented him." Y/N nodded in understanding before letting out a loud yawn. "Alright, that's enough sad shit for tonight. Let's call it a night."

"Just toss me a pillow and blanket, and I'll be fine out here."

"Or," Eddie started with a hopeful gleam in his eye. "We could make this like old times, and we can share my bed." She raised an eyebrow at him, and he put his hands up defensively to plead his case. "I know what you're thinking, but we won't be crammed on a double like old times. I upgraded to a Queen and," he paused as he let out a puff of air. "would be nice to have someone else in the bed, you know?" The air was tense for a moment, but it disappeared for Eddie when she gave him a sleepy smile and motioned for him to lead the way.

Eddie's room was different now that he was an adult. The bed was on a frame instead of the floor, and the tan-colored walls had pictures of Ronnie and Wayne instead of metal band posters. He had a tall dresser, and above it was a small bulletin board covered in concert tickets and wristbands. It was surrounded by Corroded Coffin fliers for The Hideout, where the boys still played when they had the time. Y/N stood quietly in the doorway while watching Eddie pull back the comforter.

"Alright, any preference on a side, m'lady?"

"I'll take the right side. And I swear to God, if you dutch oven me, I’m gonna punch you right in the dick."

"Holy shit. I did that once, and in my defense, it was over 15 years ago."

"It was traumatic. Smelled like a sumo wrestler took a dump on a burning pile of hair." She giggled as Eddie tossed a pillow at her.

"The fuck it did; it was not that bad."

"Well, it didn't sell like sunshine and roses either!" Her giggles stopped as they both stood on opposite sides of the bed. He looked at her like he wanted to say something, and she found herself unable to look away as she returned his gaze. It was over in a second as he shook his head and motioned for her to climb in.

"Fair warning, Ronnie is an early bird and will likely be in here at an ungodly hour."

"Thanks for the warning," she replied as she yawned, feeling sleep calling for her as she savored the perfection that was Eddie's bed. Their backs were towards each other as he leaned over and turned off the bedside lamp, the only light now coming from the slivers of moonlight through the window. Just before she succumbed to sleep, she heard Eddie's soft voice in the quiet of the room.

"Night, Y/N."

"Night, Eddie."

It started when she heard crying in her dreams, but what fully woke her was Eddie getting out of bed. It was only then that she realized the crying was coming from Ronnie's room. She followed him, Ronnie's cries pulling at her heart as she wondered what could have possibly haunted him in his sleep. She stood in the doorway of his room, watching Eddie with Ronnie in his arms.

"Come on little man, it's okay. I've got you, bud." Eddie ran a hand over his son's back as he paced the room, pausing when he saw Y/N in the doorway. "Shit, I didn't mean to wake you." Before she could respond, Ronnie realized she was in the room. Fidgeting in Eddie's hold, he held his arms out for Y/N. Eddie saw a look of shock take hold of her, but it was gone in a flash. Before he could blink, she had Ronnie's small body against her chest as she started cooing in a soothing voice.

"Now, what has you crying so hard, huh?" Y/N rubbed Ronnie's back as his sobs began to turn to soft cries. She turned to exit the room, and Eddie followed like a sailor caught by a siren. He watched as she walked past the living room into the kitchen. She pulled a carton of milk from his fridge, now holding his son on her hip as if that was where he was always supposed to be. "Eddie, where do you keep your glasses?"

Snapping out of his trance, he shuffled across the kitchen to stand behind Y/N. He reached up to open the cabinet, a hand on her shoulder as he pulled down three glasses. He watched as she lined them up before opening the milk jug and pouring it until all three glasses were full. She motioned to the microwave, and Eddie nodded. As he set the timer Y/N placed Ronnie on the counter and cradled his face, her thumbs gently wiping his tear-stained cheeks.

"Wanna tell us what woke you up?"

"We were at the park, and I couldn't find you or daddy when it was time to go. I kept yelling, but you weren't there." A new round of tears was about to fall, but she simply smiled as she took Ronnie's hands in hers.

"Don't cry, your Daddy and I are right here. See?" Ronnie looked from Y/N to his father, and Eddie gave him a small smile and wave as the timer for the microwave went off. Eddie brought the glasses over, and Y/N took one and held it to Ronnie. He took it and looked up at Y/N.

"What's this?"

"When I was little and I had bad dreams, my mom would give me a glass of warm milk. Then we would turn the TV on and watch it until I got sleepy. Sound like something you would be interested in?" Ronnie nodded as he lifted the glass to his lips. Y/N and Eddie did the same, and when they were done, she lifted Ronnie from the counter and carried him to the living room. "Your dad will find something good for us to watch, right?"

"Comfort TV, coming right up." Y/N sat with Ronnie's little head against her chest, her hand running over his back as Eddie found a rerun of The Addams Family on Nick at Nite. From his spot crouched on the floor, so many thoughts ran through his head as he watched Y/N comfort his son; he couldn't quite catch what they all were. But despite the late hour, he knew deep down that it felt right.

It took almost an hour for Ronnie to fall asleep, and by the time he had, Y/N was leaning heavily against Eddie's arm. She had spent nearly the entire time talking to him softly and rubbing his back. Eddie shut the TV off as Y/N carefully walked to Ronnie's room. She carefully placed him in his bed, covering him with his blanket before she ran her hand over his soft brown hair. Content that he would be asleep until the morning, she stood and noticed Eddie watching her from the doorway. He was wearing the same expression he'd had before they'd gone to bed. She gave him a soft smile before walking past him to his bedroom.

She heard Eddie close Ronnie's door, but before she reached the bed, she felt his hand on her wrist. She turned and, seeing his expression, her brows furrowed in curiosity as he pulled her closer. She called his name but lost her voice when he raised his hand. It cradled her jaw, his thumb running over her cheek as his eyes bore down. He lowered his head, and without saying a word, he pressed his lips to hers.

Y/N had wondered multiple times growing up what it would be like to kiss Eddie Munson; she figured that just came with having a best friend of the opposite sex. But as his other hand came to cradle her face, she realized that this moment was miles better than anything her schoolgirl imagination could concoct. Her eyes closed as his lips trailed to her cheeks, followed by her nose and forehead. She felt her heart racing when he rested his forehead against hers.

"I love you."

"Eddie,"

"Since I was 10 years old. Fuck," he chuckled as he reached down and took her hands. "I think I loved you before I even knew what that was." The room was quiet as they stood there in the dark, and Eddie wondered if he had royally screwed everything up because she wasn't saying anything. Then he felt her thumb run over the back of his hand.

"You didn't say anything," she said softly. Her eyes now were looking into his. "You let me leave for Chicago without saying anything."

"I know. Hands down, one of the worst moments in my life was watching you drive away."

"But why?" she implored. "Why wouldn't you say something?" Eddie sighed as he looked down at the floor. He only spoke when he felt her squeeze his hand.

"You were always better than Hawkins, better than me. You were destined for fancy dinner parties where assholes like me just serve the drinks." Eddie was no stranger to rejection in his life; he often wondered if it was just a part of his DNA at this point. Then he felt her hand cup his chin, forcing his face to look at her.

"It's sweet you think so highly of me, but I don't want any of that, not if you're not next to me to enjoy said drinks." Before Eddie could respond, she pulled his face down and kissed him. His hands found their way to her hips, her shirt bunching in his hold when she pressed her tongue against the seam of his lips. There was no rush, no hurry as they kissed in the dark. Eddie felt what Y/N's mother had talked about, a spark he could only hope she felt in return. When she pulled her lips away, he pulled her body closer. He pressed his nose into her neck as she ran a hand over his hair.

"Let's go out on Friday."

"A date?" she asked hopefully. She felt him nod as she felt him inhale deeply.

"A proper date, the one I should have asked you on in high school," he said as he rose to his full height. "It's been a while since Ronnie's had a sleepover at Wayne's; we'll do dinner and a movie; what do you say?"

"Pick me up at 7, and you have yourself a deal." Eddie beamed down at her before leaning down to steal another kiss.

"We'd better get some sleep before my demon spawn wakes us up at an ungodly hour." Y/N chuckled as they both climbed into the bed. Instead of sleeping back to back, now she was curled into Eddie's side, her head on his chest and her arm slung over his torso. The feel of his fingers tracing over her arm made her eyes droop, and as she drifted off into sleep, she could faintly feel his lips on her head as he whispered unheard words to her.

Eddie woke when the sun from the window moved over his face. He first noticed that his arms no longer held Y/N, and he wondered for a brief moment if it had all been a wonderful dream. But then he felt a slight movement to his left. Y/N was sleeping on her side, facing him, and between them was Ronnie. His son was sprawled on his back, his sleep shirt had ridden up to show his stomach, and his tiny hand was holding onto Y/N's even in sleep. He knew in an instant that was what he wanted to wake up to every day for the rest of his life.

Tonight, when Wayne came to visit, he was going to ask for his grandmother's ring. Eddie knew he wasn't the smartest guy in the world, but he was sure of this. He was going to make Y/N his wife before the year was out.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson

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landonorizzz · 2 months

Text

SUMMARY: marceline's valentines over the years (a short study of self love and a look into the past)

PAIRING: pierre gasly x ex! fem! redbull media team! oc , [redacted] x fem! redbull media team! oc (no faceclaim)

WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, cursing

A/N: this is a short valentines day special, marci is healing and we get a look into pierre's and marci's past relationship - this one's not really plot filled, just some valentines snaps over the years ;)

[carved my name] masterlist madi's library

marcilazzaro1 and clairobernie_x posted to their story!

liked by danielricciardo, lance_stroll, clairobernie_x and others

marcilazzaro1 this year, for valentines day, i am celebrating the strongest, bravest and funniest person i know, the curious soul that has been with me my whole life - myself. these past months made me realise that i wasn't always so kind to her, always putting her wants and needs on hold for people who weren't worth it, telling her to settle for something less rather that fight for what she deserves... now, i'm learning to love her and be happy for her in a completely different way and i've never felt more like myself. today of all days, whether you're single or in a relationship, please remember to show yourself some love too. you can spoil yourself a little - you absolutely deserve it.

all of my love goes to you x

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carrie_on whos cutting onions here what the shit

redleclerc she is actually so mother, you don't understand

clairobernie_x i very much agree with the home decor, mia bella 🤍

↳ marcilazzaro1 aw, are we about to kiss rn?

↳ clairobernie_x 😚

cuddlyxricc are you trying to trick me into loving myself with a very aesthetic valentines photo dump?

↳ marcilazzaro1 is it working?

↳ cuddlyxricc ......maybe

↳ marcilazzaro1 good.

quickstappen did you do anything special today to spoil yourself?

↳ marcilazzaro1 yes! i cooked my absolute favourite meal from my childhood, took a very long and relaxing bath all while sipping on apple cider (i'm not a huge fan of champagne) and binged the mamma mia movies again!

↳ marcilazzaro1 did you do anything to spoil yourself?

↳ quickstappen it was gonna be another sad valentines, but you've changed my mind. i deserved a break. i went shopping to my favourite store and i'm planning to treat myself to dinner night out!

↳ marcilazzaro1 you don't know how amazing it is to hear that 🤍

barbiegirl i just love how confident she's getting 🥹 i've waited YEARS for this

shithappens okay but the revenge dress???? absolute serve

↳ madi_races it looks like it was made for her, honestly

ilpredestinatox HELL YEAH. GIRL, YOU DON'T NEED NO MAN (especially not that cheating bastard)

sarah_scott 🥂💛

FEBRUARY 2020

liked by pierregasly, danielricciardo and others

marcilazzaro1 to the one who always listens to what i have to say and never complains about my weird shit - i thought i knew what it was like to love and be loved, but everyday you prove me wrong, you're like a breath of fresh air after a long dive.

all of my love goes to you x

tagged: pierregasly

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pierregasly there's no one i'd rather listen to in the middle of the night, you make me feel whole, i didn't even know i had so much love to give

FEBRUARY 2021

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and others

marcilazzaro1 another year, another letter. i've never felt such an overwhelming kind of love, no matter how many words i write, it's never enough. there's so much i want to say and so little words. i think i'll just have to write it out for the rest of my life and even that might not be enough time.

all of my love goes to you x

tagged: pierregasly

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pierregasly i've never liked reading, but i know all your letters by heart. i can't wait to spend forever with you

FEBRUARY 2022

liked by pierregasly, alex_albon and others

marcilazzaro1 to pierre, my love - no words can explain what i feel for you (and yet i try every year), i love everything about you, even your dirty socks laying around the apartment, but most of all, i love your quiet. i was never good with silence, my life is chaotic and full of noise, i was scared of slowing down, but with you i am safe and i don't have to fear the quiet moments anymore

all of my love goes to you x

tagged: pierregasly

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pierregasly i can only be quiet with you, no one else

FEBRUARY 2023

liked by pierregasly, sarah_scott and others

marcilazzaro1 to the future us - i hope you're kind and loved. to pierre - another year with you and i still don't have enough. i think my love for you might be endless, like the depth of your eyes in the mornings. i am enamored, bewitched, but never lost, i've found myself in your arms.

all of my love goes to you x

tagged: pierregasly

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pierregasly here's to the future! i love you always

madi's radio: here we have a bit of nostalgia for marci and pierre :)))) i don't know where this came from honestly, but i wanted to show that there was a time when they were happy and in love (on both sides)

taglist: @sunny44 @rockyhayzkid @biancathecool @unluckyyoshi @woozarts @janeholt3 @celestialend @formulaal @d3kstar @yoremins @rd14 @mess-is-my-aesthetic @callsignwidow @blaaahblubb @evans-dejong @lwstuff (xxx - couldn't tag you)

click here to be added to the carved my name taglist!

DISCLAIMER: i do not know anything about this people, this is not real life, this is just something for fun, i do not know anythings about their life or personalities!

#f1 #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 instagram au #pierre gasly #pierre gasly smau #pg10 #dr3 #daniel ricciardo smau #daniel ricciardo #alpine f1 #red bull f1 #formula 1 #for fun

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lowkeyremi · 8 months

Note

Dating the teacher P2 plsssss <3 (if you want to do a part 2)

I was actually thinking about doing part 2 I just wasn't sure when, thanks for prompting me to do it :)) also sorry this took me so long, my motivation is still slowly coming back, which also explains why this is so short

"Mom I swear the hot cocoa's good! Just try it!!!" Denki tries for the 5th time? You think it's the 5th, you started tuning him out because you're nervous.

It's christmas break for Denki, and you decided that it's finally the time for him to meet your boyfriend... his teacher.

"I'm good hon, I promise." You offer him a smile and he returns it.

"Okay! Anyway, I'm excited to meet your boyfriend. He's nice right? If he isn't I don't think we'll get along. You deserve to be happy after being alone for fifteen years." Denki's been chatting your ear off about Shota for the past two days (since he got back home). He doesn't know it's Shota though.

Denki made one of those ugly sweaters for him, so he could match you and your son. He wants to be a "happy family" his words not yours, you thought the two of you were a happy family, but Denki had said, "we're happy but not complete! Do you know what I mean? I don't know just ignore me." His words repeated in you're head for awhile.

It's true that you're happy.. but are you complete?

You're pulled out of your thoughts when the door bell rings. You can feel your stomach drop, "I'll go get it!" Denki runs to the door, you spring up off the couch and follow after him. He opens the door, "Good evening, Denki."

"Mr. Aizawa?!" Denki yells in surprise. His body twists to look at you.

"Are you sleeping with him to get me good grades?" Denki asks, and you open your mouth in shock.

"Denki! What the hell are you talking about? You get good grades because of your effort!" Aizawa quirks a brow at Denki's question.

"I'm so sorry Shota, come in." Your child is still in slight shock at the fact that you're dating his teacher.. teacher!!!!

------

The first couple of minutes are awkward. Shota's sitting next to you on the couch and Denki's sitting on the single seater furthest away from the couch. He doesn't say a word while the movie's playing. Obviously he's not too interested in it, he must be thinking you presume.

Shota rubs his large, warm hand up and down your thigh, an attempt to comfort you. "He'll come around, don't work yourself up over it." He whispers into your ear. You really wanted to cry, in your mind you'd hope everything would go well but with the way your son is distancing himself from you... must mean he doesn't approve, right?

"I hope so, I really want him to like you, Sho." Those comforting arms of his wrap around you. Shota Aizawa is the world's best cuddler, and anyone who disagrees can fight you.

"Mom."

Those nerves which just settled jumped sky high once again, "yes, baby?"

"I'm uh- happy for you. Hope you didn't get the wrong idea. I was just kinda shocked y'know. Like, Aizawa sensei of all people.." he trails off not finishing that sentence.

"I can assure you Denki, that I treat your mother well. Just as I take care of all my students. I'm sure you must think I'd be the last person to be domestic." Shota's voice is smooth as always and you calm down a little bit. Nervous breath slows into something somewhat normal.

"That's exactly what I was thinking! You're always in that sleeping bag and stuff. And you're mean sometimes!" Denki whines slightly and you take the opportunity to slip into the kitchen.

You'll let them talk, man to man... or man to boy? You'll never accept time aging up your baby boy.

The kitchen smells delightful, it's just cold enough for chicken noodle soup, so that's what you've decided to make. It's a recipe passed down in your family but you like to add your own little twist which makes it special.

If anything goes with chicken noodle soup it's grilled cheese. The cheese melts perfectly with the bread while it's cooking on your greased griddle. It's only been about thirty minutes since you escaped the living room and you hear Shota and Denki laughing together.

That weight on your shoulders has suddenly been lifted and relief settles in. Thank God, you were scared things would go south.

"Mom, you have to keep him. He told me he took you sky-diving for your birthday! I would have never expected him to go sky-diving but he went because you wanted to." A big smile cracks on your face when you see that glimmering shine in Denki's eyes.

"Hey Mr. Aizawa does that mean I can call you Shota outside of school?!"

"Shota, dad, whatever fits the bill, kid." Shota wraps his arms around your waist and places his chin on your shoulder. (i think i have an obsession with men hugging you from behind)

"That smells so good, pretty mama." He breathes out evenly. Your own breath hitches at the new nickname.

But of course your ever loving son ruins the moment, "ewwwwww disgusting! Can you flirt when I'm not right here?! I might barf in my chicken noodle soup."

Somehow you and Shota roll your eyes in sync and Denki snorts.

"I love you mom and dad." He says softly.

That fucking does it, the tears spill. Happy ones at that. Your son has accepted Shota into his life. You expected it'd at least be a few months, maybe years before he'd start calling him dad, but you figure with no father figure in his life, having one right now must mean the world to him.

"I love you too my sweet little boy." Shota wipes those tears with his big scarred hand.

"I'm actually not little I'm about sixteen years old." He argues.

"You've still got a few months until you're sixteen."

#bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha aizawa #aizawa shota #aizawa shouta #shota aizawa x reader #aizawa shota x reader #shota aizawa #shouta aizawa #aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #aizawa x y/n #my hero academy

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vitzi9 · 11 months

Text

Of course Ghostface wants you!

Gf!Ethan X GN!Reader

Masterlist if you want to read my other things.

‼️CW/TW‼️: scar; manipulative E; yandere!Ethan

If there's others tell me.

Not satisfied with this one, like really not. I fell like this is pure shit. Sorry.

"I'm scared, E. I'm actually terrified."

Ethan tightens his hold around you and kiss your forehead. The both of you lying down on your bed after a movie and an argument with the group.

"Ghostface wants us, he probably wants me, too! I don't wanna die, not like this. And the group... They want to separate you from me. You're my only support. Don't leave."

"I won't leave you." He whispers in your ear. "I'd never leave you. Nobody'll ever separate you from me. We'll be together forever. I'll protect you from everything."

According to Mindy, Ethan was the main suspect. When the first attack occurred, he wasn't here. Everyone got hurt, and Anika...

A wave of sadness overcome you and you feel your eyes water again.

"Love..." Ethan whispers, concern in his voice.

His thumbs caress your cheek while a weak smile makes his way to your face. The first attack was so unexpected, nobody was ready.

You even got hurt, too. Ghostface plunged his knife into your thigh. The hit was directed towards Sam but, trying to push her away, you fell and got hurt instead of her. Badly. You'll never regret it though.

Ethan's hand goes down your shoulders, to your hips to finally settle on your thigh. Where your stitches remains. He does not put his palms directly on it since the scar is really fresh and not healed yet. But his hand was still close to it. He was feeling guilty ever since he saw you with Chad near the ambulance. He was blaming himself.

"It's not your fault, E." You say.

-Yes, it is. I should have been here.

-But you weren't. It's useless to think of what you could have done. I'm alive. That's what matters."

You feel water running down your head. A single drop. A tear. Ethan is crying. You take Ethan's hand which is on your thigh and move it to your hip. Your good leg sneak its way in between his. While the hurt one goes above them to frame him. But not too far in case you worsen your stitches by stretching it. Both of your arms go under his. Your chest is glued to his.

"It's my fault.

-It's Ghostface's fault. He's the one who attacked me. Not you."

Ethan stays silent. His hand caress your back slowly and you do the same for him. Both of you comforting each other in the almost religious silence of the room. Some cars could faintly be heard outside but you were not paying attention to them.

In this hug, you were protecting each other. You were telling him how much you loved him, how much you were grateful. While Ethan was telling you that everything would be fine. He was so worried... You were happy he had econ. You don't know what you would have done if you saw him get hurt. He's the only one who understands you. The last thing you want is to see him in danger.

"You're risking your live by staying with me, you know ?" You talk with a shaky voice. You were getting emotional again just by thinking of what could happen.

"I'm sure Ghostface won't hurt you. How could he kill someone as pretty as you?"

"That's not funny, E. I'm really scared.

"I know but I swear to you, from now on, I'll always be by your side."

You nod, burying your face in his chest. Your arms tighten around him. You feel him tense for a second. Worried, you look up at him to just see him smiling, all softened, at you. He was so pretty. How could the others ever think of him as a criminal ? He was the one massaging your back when you were tired. He was the one cuddling you when you were sad. He was the one litteraly apologizing to chairs when he bumped into them. He was the one crying watching romantics movies ! How could he kill someone?

"Did I hurt you?" You ask.

-No, love. Why?" He whispers back.

You took time to respond, chilling in the pretty silence of the room where all you could hear were your two breath. It was hot but a nice hotness. A calming one. It made you sleepy, you who had sleep issue.

"Your body contracted when I touched you.

-It's nothing..."

Still worried, you move in the bed. Your back now facing him. He's whining, missing your body close already. You grab your phone and quicky return under the blanket. This time though, your head goes underneath. With the flashlight of your phone, you move up his shirt and look at where you touched moment prior. Ethan sighs.

"I told you it's nothing."

But you ignore him and go back to the surface. Meeting his accustomed yet loving gaze.

"Did your hurt yourself? You have a bruise on your hip."

He laughs nervously, as if embarrassed. His big hands takes a good hold of your hips before moving you up until you're face to face. He then hides his face in your neck. He loved doing that, manhandling you. You never understood why. He sighs once in the comfort of your body.

"I bumped into the corner of the table yesterday."

You had doubts.

"You're not hiding something from me, right ?"

But Ethan never doubted himself.

"What ? You think I'm Ghostface, too?" He said in a ironical tone, knowing damn well he won already.

You were not laughing. You would never dare doubt your boyfriend like that. The only reason you asked that was because you were scared he got into a fight or simply hurt himself bad. It happens, after all. Never would the thought he was a murderer even cross your mind. So you push him away from you a little to see his face. Not even a shadow of a smile on your face.

"Don't say that. Even for a joke. You know it makes me angry. I don't like them saying that. You're not Ghostface. I think I'd knew it well if you were a damn serial killer." You said, gritting your teeth, your hands clenching around his shirt.

-Well, I don't like them saying that either. Plus, they imply that you'd be stupid enough to be in a relationship with someone you barely know. But you're not stupid. And we know each other. You're the cleverest person in the damn world.

The subject changed and you didn't even notice.

-I am stupid sometimes, though. There is lot of things that I don't notice. Like when that guy was following me home. If it weren't for you I'd be dead.

-And that's why I'm here.

It was his duty, after all. To protect you.

-But Ghostface is not just a creepy guy in an alley. He's much more dangerous Ethan. And he wants me dead. He wants me.

-Of course he wants you my love, you're so pretty. Everyone want you.

You move away from his embrace and stare at him angrily. You had already told him not to joke like that and he was still doing it. Your eyes were swollen and your cheeks were dry. Contradictory with the long minutes you spent wetting them.

-Seriously Ethan, don't joke on that subject. It's making me uncomfortable. Anika is dead because of that guy. I don't want to laugh.

You cringed internally mentioning your friend. Fuck, she wasn't even related to the group that much. She was new, like Ethan. Why was she targeted ?

-I'm joking on it because I know nothing will happen to you. You're safe with me." He was smiling. A reassuring smile. One you could pour all your trust in.

You could never stay mad at Ethan anyway. Less in a situation like this. You needed support. And your friends didn't want him around. You only had him to dry your tears.

"I don't want you to get hurt." You said, entering back your safe place: his arms.

"I already told you. I won't. I'm staying here until you are safe.

-And the group? Chad, Mindy, Sam and Tara ? What about them?

-I'm sure they'll be fine. Even if they threw you out of their house...

-They didn't throw me out of the house, Ethan. I know you don't like them but they're my friends. They're scared too, you have to understand that.

-Okay, I understand. But if I wasn't here, you would have been all alone. They shouldn't have kicked you out in a situation like this."

You found nothing to answer this time. Because it was true. If he wasn't here, you'd be alone. They didn't kick you out, you left with Ethan because you were angry with their accusatory remarks towards him. But still, no one tried to call you. To know how you were doing. To even check if you were alive. And realizing that, you start crying again. You were so sensitive since Anika's death. You were truly in edge. You were happy Ethan was here.

"I'm alone E. I'm so fucking alone..." You realized.

-No, of course not. You're not alone. I'm here. I'd die for you. I'll protect you. Nothing will ever harm you as long as I'm here. You'll always be seen with me by your side. I'll marry you one day. You know that?"

You weren't listening anymore. You were remembering every memory you had with your friends. Searching a way to come back to them, to regain their trust. You needed them, they were your dear friends. Maybe you were dramatic but you had every right to be. And Ethan was right. They had left you alone to die by Ghostface. They had left you knowing you were a target. But you loved them, you couldn't resent them.

"We'll live a life where you won't need anyone but me. And I won't need anyone but you. A house secluded where no one can come. After all of this is done, we'll be together."

Ethan was smiling. But you couldn't see it.

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